of deconstruction

oh, the pain of deconstruction —

of returning to once solid foundations

and finding them less true

but impossible to remove.

drills of seeing that ceaselessly spin,

bore, make holes in all I once thought solid.


it’s devastating at first —

until it’s not.

then, it’s liberation.


for so long, I thought

the stories I’d been told were true.

that words meant to guide and instruct

were verified fact,

a measuring stick and a proof

with which to test the world.

and then, suddenly, they aren’t.


it aches, this awakening,

this coming face to face with

the profound absurdity of it all,

the desperate clinging

of my own mind to familiarity,

an ego cloaked in belief


and eventually, there’s only rubble,

room enough to build something else.

something new and open,

with the space for change.


-Britta Hamilton


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