Let us fall.
Let us suffer.
What do you have to fear?
obsessively seeking success,
clawing tight when it seems to slip,
and pulling the safety net beneath ourselves just before we fall.
“It’s OK. We’re important. We’re special.”
It seems false so we shock ourselves out of thought with 30 second clips of people in screens.
Fuck this fear.
I stand before all, unafraid to miss the target.
With each arrow that misses the mark they gasp.
“I can’t believe it.”
“He really does suck.”
“I knew it all along.”
“I knew he couldn’t do it.”
Just waves, down but again to raise us up.
Or maybe we’ll continue to fall.
I don’t know.
That’s why this is so special.
That’s why this is so scary.
Brave enough to raise the bow again.
Brave enough to take the full draw.
Brave enough to watch the target in the full draw, committed to this arrow until the very last moment its flight stops in sand or paper.
Split apart your chest in defiance.
Don’t blink at the release, for you may miss the moment that changed the world.