Choices

Choices. Choices, choices, choices. I am inundated with choices. Inebriated. Overwhelmed. Each option turns clearly to another Better turns to worse in a heartbeat. Each bleeding thing I want holds me back from something I crave both less and more. I want to leave and fly beyond the sky I have known, But I am terrified of the power my wings hold Because I do not know if it is power in strength or power in weakness, As though my body preys upon itself. I can hardly think as I pray or pray as I think, And I know that's all I need to do, but God help me, I can't! My soul is drunk with notions of far-off places my heart longs for and desperately flees from. I feel as though an answer can give me peace, But I must find peace before I can grasp an answer. Turmoil. A knotty problem that isn't a blessing to fix Because it must be fixed to become a blessing. And one choice I make ruins them all.