The Road I travel

The things that would be easy
are not things that I choose
right or wrong
I’ve been down both those roads before
what appears easy and simple
is complexity and danger cloaked in disguuse

I could easily sneak away
my bed is empty at night
while he sleeps a floor beneath me
I could visit the store
not far from my house
on a day I’m alone
pay a visit
to the man who wants
to kiss my lips
but
I do not.

I sit at home
and write
I write of my passion
some days
until it feels
my fingertips
could bleed
I write
I think
I write some more
I try to shake the voices in my head
telling me how easy it would be
to find someone new
to share these passions with

I would love to travel
to sample a taste
of something
that feels
like a sunset
sounds like a symphony
looks like a life painting
that I could jump into
and call home.

yes…I have desires
and fantasies
just like anyone else

What I choose
is a more difficult road
maybe it’s not the right path
maybe it will wind up being a dead end.
for now it is the only path
I travel

it’s much harder
to sleep alone in a bed
meant to be shared
to spend nights cold and lonely
rather than in a lover’s arms
much more difficult
to rekindle a fire
that has long been extinguished
wouldn’t it be simpler to
throw a new log
on the fireplace
start a new blaze?

I have walked the path of least resistance also

many years ago
taken the easy way out

it was easy
falling
but not so easy
ending…
hurting…
and now from the past
I emerge
having learned
some important life lessons
slightly jaded
but still hopeful
and full of passion

with these lessons in mind
I painstakingly choose my path
wiser for having
traveled both roads