Do you see time as the enemy,
Ready to breach barriers between
Yourself and what you deem perfection?
With time, courage is born from the wolves
You killed, wearing their pelts, heavy
On your back, a scar worth carrying.
With time, fear may dwindle when courage
Is devoured into pulsing flame, igniting
The heart beneath the ribcage.
Or maybe with time, the courage remains
Weak, because those pelts you carry
Collect the dust that blackens your lungs.
You cannot breathe.
Maybe time can be the enemy, but
Befriending may be a chore worth
Checking off. A way to throw the pelts
From sore shoulders, leaping with
Courage, able to expand.