Crossing the Line

changes are not easy,

they never are,

they require deep self-reflection,

honest evaluations,

things which I have never been good at,

once I used to write for popularity,

thinking it was a ticket out,

a chance to escape from this prison where I live,

but now I write for survival,

trying to manage life

mixed in among the dead,

fantasy with the real;

there is a fine line

between fantasy and reality,

between genius and insanity,

it is not always easy to tell

which side of the line

something or someone is on,

boundaries are defined,

limits are set and these become the world

in which we live,

but then someone comes along

refusing to be confined

by a world of limits and boundaries,

going beyond lines drawn;

if they succeed,

they are a genius,

but if they fail,

then they are a fool;

her and I cross the line all the time,

we both know it,

neither of us speaks about it,

because if we did,

then we might have to admit

there are changes that need to be made,

lines which need to be redrawn,

and that is not easy;

but then it never is.

.

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