Mercy

I don't think I choose mercy as much as I fall into it, but even falling sounds too graceful as if falling into mercy is as poetic as falling into love. It's more like slamming into the concrete after tripping over my own shoe. Then, turning over towards the sky so my body can breathe, I let the pain of bruised and scraped skin sink in as I look towards the open air and release what needs to be done to someone who isn't plastered on the pavement.

Falling into mercy is the realization after every failure that it was never up to me in the first place. It's equally depressing as it is liberating. But the sky is pretty blue today so at least the view is nice.