sometimes I forget I can do what I want

And then I remember

- with a slap, a sigh, or sudden sweetness,

I don’t owe anything

or anyone the version of me I outgrew.

Yes, sometimes I forget that I can stop mid-sentence,

mid-dinner,

mid-thought,

mid-book. I can rewrite mid-dream. Mid - story.

If I feel the no approaching, I can use it. If I think the yes,

I can sink all the way into it.

Even with the fingerprint of shame, the muscle memory of caution.

Even with the self-judgment, I can turn left where I am used to turning right.

Sometimes I forget I chose this city.