22.8.12

The Post-Game Wrap Up

I feel like I'm walking through water, deep and salty. Maybe these are the tears that have been held back, that tremble at the brim but never topple. I don't remember how to cry. I am soaked, brined, in my own unwasted tears.

I feel like my mouth has been invaded and hornets have built a nest. I can't breath. All that emits when I try to talk is the buzzing noise of a million thoughts hived together in one congealing, sticky mass.

I feel like an old woman, bent double from swollen joints and shrinking bones, hardly able to carry her own weight. Pulling behind me, like a cart of groceries, a wagonload of children, their baggage and mine. I'm not sure my body can bear this pressure.

I feel tired. And sad. And scared.

But I feel the relief and freedom of self-determined destiny.

And that makes the rest worth it, in the end.