More than this …

More than this …

a litany of memory gaps,

a fuzzy and foggy world, and

selves that work against each other.

I am more than this – I think, I believe …

I want it to be so, more than the sum of the parts of my selves.

But want can only go so far, what do you do when all you have is want?

One hardly has a map or plan.

It’s a prayer, some faith, and a Hail Mary throw or two.

It’s all we have, and so we’ll take it and run and run and run.

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