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Letters From The Fishbowl

The life, times, fiction, and mind-lint of V.B. Rising. Enter at your own risk, traveler, for here there be rants and misplaced modifiers.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

There are moments
in each of our quiet lives
when we are told
to give it up,
to let it go,
and only a fool will go on.

And we look up from the dirt,
where we landed due to our own clumsiness,
carelessness,
callousness,
and we acknowledge those truths.

And we stand
and unsheath
and go on
and fight.

These are the beginnings of the stories we tell and then:
She said yes.
He backed down.
I got it.
I won.
And look at us now.

But for every one of those moments,
there are ninety-nine
where we swallow
and ache
and look up
and we say,
"If that's what you want."

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