for the first time ever in our minor lives
let’s take the test, and fail it
aim for suboptimal, the moral lowground
hold hands, and deliberately come last.

if progress is layer upon layer of effort
of mending ourselves and all we do wrong:
let’s stop trying, give in to the devil inside
lift the lid on suppression of instinct.

gearstick in reverse, and foot on the pedal
peel off the costume of domestication
reach inside and revive the deep-buried dreamer:
since you were, you still can be, even if scary;

and not only can be, but should be, must be;
the only obligation outstanding.
the only thing left on that demonic to-do list:
no longer let others define you.

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