Where to next?

New York.

Key West.

San Francisco.

Charleston.

Alaska.

Nicaragua.

Spain.

Australia.

Anywhere but here.

Fed Up.

With the issues.

With the problems.

With the arguments.

With the bickering.

With the whining.

With the backstabbing.

With the looks.

With the noises.

With the stress.

With the drama.

With the responsibility.

I'm done.

The Collapse.

Heavy breathing....

Whizzing in and out of the nose.

Pricking eyes,

Shoulders shrugging,

Mind racing,

Feet tingling.

Almost ending.

About time.

Where.

Where will it start,

begin,

move.

When will it break,

open,

soothe.

Why does it stall,

stammer,

fall.

How will it end,

summer, spring, winter, or fall.

Salty and Sweet.

It starts with a moment,

a feeling, a pull...

It grows with an intensity,

a jar, a lull...

It moves over the porcelain,

a trickle, a mill...

It slides, it seeps, it makes peace.

Speeding Up.

If the black belt goes too fast,

grab for the red cord.

If the tempo rises,

grab for the red cord.

When the music pumps,

push just a little further.

If the sweat starts to cascade,

hit the up arrow just a little harder.

When the jiggles start to jive,

punch the up arrow.

Now you have the pace,

Now you have the jist,

Now you're getting there...

Don't forget to return.

Breathing Free Once Again.

The mornings lift

with a serenity that's been missing for so long.

The day awakens,

with the promise of something new,

bright,

colorful,

exciting,

positive,

and better.

The evenings roll in

with something that waa missing for so long,

the strength of me knowing it wasn't you all along,

it was me,

who was the better of the best friends.