The Returning

 

The Returning 

I wrote a list of what I love
to remind myself who I am,
hoping it leads me back to you.I lined up every fear I’ve carried for years—
they used to live inside me.
They don’t anymore.I’ve stood too long at the borderline.
Watch me walk straight through.No more running.
I’m coming back
like I used to be—
standing at the open door,
walking right through.
I’m coming back to you.Breathing’s hard these days,
I’m no saint, half the time I barely believe—
but no one’s fixing this except me.I’ve stood too long at the borderline.
Watch me walk straight through.No more running.
I’m coming back to you.