Molt
every decade I am reborn I must molt to fly mold myself into the sky mold myself into this person i've chosen to be. it's like wandering through a corn maze every new dead end must be retraced to the last wrong undone I must choose the other way. I head forward again I lose time, but not self-respect, only hunger and thirst but I packed well for this journey. my sweat drips off invisible feathers torn from my skin by time itself. my heart is raw but beating and I must choose confidence …or die. ©2025 @StaceyBattlestheWorld
