Relapse

Here we are again, I say to the dragon.

Yes, he answers, here we are again.

I am tired, I tell him.

I keep trying

I wait for the snowdrops each year

and they come

and I admire them

but something has happened

the wonder is gone

this was why I never meant

to know

The riddle, he replies.  When?

There is no riddle, I say,

just words to songs I

cannot hear

whispers that eat away at denial

not the rotten bitter kind

but the type that keeps the

hopeless alive

You are still afraid, the dragon returns.

You are ruled by fear.

So easy to say when you can burn

what torments you

I do not have that luxury

I must stand on my toes to look over it

as I try to breathe hope onto flowers in

winter

I must make peace with

this dwindling denial

how sweet it was

that blue sky I saw it

I believed

now I am resigned

tell me

is this victory?

There is no winning,

the dragon tells me.

There is only acceptance.

Remember the riddle.

It is your only choice.