rift

Last night, in the moments my thoughts were adrift
And coasting a terrace, approaching a rift
Through which I could spy several glimpses beneath
Of the darkness the light from above could not reach
I spied wings of reason, herself taking flight
And upon yonder precipice saw her alight
And glared back at me one last look of dismay
As if she were the last one she thought I'd betray

**

It was about a year ago, maybe a little more, that I decided to try some new ways of thinking, hoping that I could thereby recover something I felt like I'd lost. 

I tried, honestly I did.  I consciously adopted more constructive mental habits, started looking people in the eye when I spoke to them, trying to will some things into place, to shore some fragments against my ruins.

There is within me, though, a rift that apparently can't be bridged, and the effort of trying has left me more weary than ever before.  It might be a comfort to remember that there are many people who've done great things not just in spite of, but because of, their rifts . . . but that is not my fate.  Time to just deal with what I am rather than what I might want to be.