the chalk is mine

our minds were conditioned
those first few years

Innundated with information
Behaviors and habits
Ideas of life and love
Told what we can and cannot do
Told who we could be

Patterns upon patterns
Thoughts and actions
Repeated
Time and time again
Learning and processing
Absorbing it all

Good and bad
Healthy and toxic
These are our stories

That slate
Whether blank or primed
Is full of writing

But now
The power is mine
The chalk is in my hand
The board everchanging
But i can write what i like
And erase all i dont