Permission Slip - Angi sullins

This is your permission slip
to fail—
signed by stardust,
notarized by moonlight,
delivered by the misfit angels
who color outside every line.

Yes, you.
With the trembling hands
and the brave heart
pretending not to shake.
You’re allowed to mess it all up.
Paint the picture
that looks like chaos.
Write the poem
that doesn’t rhyme.
Try the dance
with two left feet
and joy as your only rhythm.

You don’t need to be perfect
to be precious.
This world was not built
by those who got it right
on the first try.
It was stitched together
by souls who
dared to fall,
dared to rise,
dared to laugh
with icing on their nose
and failure at their feet.

Start the thing.
Wreck it.
Begin again.

You’re not behind.
You’re becoming.

Looking foolish
is the costume of the brave.
So go ahead—
be gloriously, brilliantly bad at it.
That’s where the gold lives.
Not in the polish,
but in the play.

This is your permission slip
to fail.
And in doing so,
to fly.

Shared by Maryse Barak