A poem

There are forces that try to build you (and me) up. There are definitely forces that work to do the opposite. I don’t know if I’m in control of which wins, but sometimes it sure feels like a choice, albeit a hard one.


I expect life to fall apart all at once
In one dramatic gesture.
But it’s not really like that is it?

It’s more like the taking down of a Jenga tower
Block by block weakening defenses
Until one moment it crashes.

Or maybe it doesn’t crash,
but instead it’s more like 2 toddlers
building a fortress together until one decides
he will start taking it down.
He doesn’t knock it down,
He races the one building it up.
So that the game becomes whether the tower will grow up
Or down.

It’s like falling in love,
One day struggling to imagine staying with him
Right after waking up to a nightmare in which he isn’t in your life.
Which feeling will win?

It’s like deciding whether or not to hit snooze.
Just one more time.
Or deciding whether or not the number on the scale
Is something to celebrate
Or hate.
A decision. 2 options, both with convincing arguments.

“Fill in the circle next to the best possible answer.”

I’m falling apart
At the same time I’m being built up.
The 2 toddlers laughing, but fighting…
The observers laughing, and placing bets…
Who will win?
The builder or the destroyer?

I choose to be built up.

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