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Middle Ground
I used to love rules

Rules for what to say,

What to wear,

Rules for brushing my teeth,

Or rules for walking outside.

It took away the hard choices to make them in advance

It kept me safe.

It kept me kind.

I liked the person I was when I followed the rules,

So I made lots of them.

As I grew,

The rules stopped serving me.

I was surrounded by things I wanted,

Things everyone seemed to obtain so easily,

And I wasn't allowed to have.

I got tired,

Then I got sad.

This made me bitter,

So the rules stopped.


This is often how I live,

Swinging between extremes.

Rules or disorder.

All or none.

I go until I can't,

Then snap.

I heal,

I adapt,

I push forward,

But perhaps what I need is balance

So it doesn't have to hurt

Each time I change