I kick the football yet again,
choosing to forget
the inevitable,
that it will be snatched
at the last moment
and send me tumbling
end over end through blankness,
wailing, furious, shedding illusions
like jagged sparkler beams,
crash landing, spent,
in a heap of dim regret.
but, then I do get up,
fortitude my ally,
defiant, standing straight,
determined to survive,
and run toward the garden of my soul,
where love and self forgiveness thrive,
to heal, and not look back