Fa(ith/te)

When I was younger

my little cousin tried to explain

as we sat on metal bleachers,

in an attempt to convert me,

"Faith"

she told me

"is trusting 
these benches 
not to collapse
and throw you to the ground"

I told her

"I don't trust them,

I simply accept that I currently 

live in a reality where

they haven't

yet,

so instead of living my life

trusting that the ground will not

crumble

beneath my feet,

I walk

carefully

brusquely

watching the cracks

watching others walking my direction

prepared for disaster

yet

appreciating

every

single

step

because each step

each breath

is a product of the simple luck

that happens to place my consciousness 
in the exact current of fate's rivers

which hasn't killed me

yet

and to me,

that feels like

truth...

like

freedom"

She looked at the benches we sat on

and breathed

a little

slower

a little 

deeper

and smiled.