Right and true

Daydream of a place that's

Soft, and cool, and low,

Where sounds

Of water

Emulsify the raw,
Exposed

Nerves that ache

With the constant scrape

Of what

Could be contrived

As fear

But it is not.

It's just the wear

And tear of life

Lived on the edge

Between the "norm"

And what is right

For me.

The water flows

When I expose

Myself to the idea

That what I am

And what I do, and what 

I've done

Is right

And true.