Christopher Benoit

What’s pulling us to Ptown?
Your armor gleams with titles, bright and cold—
Degrees, the quiet son, the life you sold.
You drag the weight of sermons, standards, shame,
A tailored name that hides your raw, true flame.
You didn’t sail for waves or gallery light,
You came to drop the iron, leave the fight.
Salt air and harbor truth strip every seam,
You shed the man you were and chase the dream.
The mirror waits—unforgiving, sharp, and clear,
It shows the ache and joy you learned to fear.
To stand unmasked beneath that brutal glow
Is tasting freedom only raw hearts know.
So drop the armor on the shifting sand,
Choose joy, get naked, let them see your hand.
You held the flame, refused to let it die.
Kept the current, let it build, then break.
Told the tide it wasn’t finished yet,
Then walked away while it was still in debt.
That’s the man the mirror finally showed:
Not chasing, owning—quiet, fully known. #provincetown #pull #freedom #relaxing #joy