How do you relax?
I don’t.
Even when the world is still,
my mind races—
a million nanoseconds a minute.
No time to separate reality
from daydream,
anxiety from the real picture.
I run from what’s hard,
tough it out
like a boxer’s last seconds
before the bell—
body tired, fists up.
Dodging mental bullets from the left,
emotional grenades from the right.
At 5’6”, I stand tall,
hiding the weight
my insides refuse to regurgitate.
I train for an Ironman,
almost pressing Did Not Finish,
but the tether chord yanks me back,
drags me to air,
to movement,
to life.
And still—
my mind paints the most genuine love,
falsifying the present,
creating a false negative,
yearning for forever
with that one.
People come,
people go—
seasons shift,
pulling, plucking,
without reason, without return.
And still,
I don’t relax.

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