I found that people that can pull themselves from themselves,
That can escape the gravity well of their own past,
Are free.
The price is a constant struggle to escape,
To be forever in greater motion,
So that the accumulated mass of memories and trauma,
Can not devour you.

It is our own solar system, our beautiful sun.
The light, the energy that feeds us is there,
At the center where it all began a long time ago.
We feed off of it and we try to escape,
A long battle of imperfect circles.
This is a balancing act,
Run away and you become sterile and cold,
Get too close and you are burned.

One thing remains constant throughout,
One sun, one past that orders your galaxy,
One center that you have to resist.

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