Bright Night

Quiet the cravings

Settle the dust

Run from nothing

Not in a rut

The old her’s expired

The new on the way

Practice & patience

A deep breath today

Not all at once

What fun is that

Both pain & play

Brew in this habitat

Growth headed towards

Her, wait and see

Sweet surprises 

For little she

Little in size

Grand, her spirit

Universe whispers

“There is no limit”

Above & beyond

Wishes come true

Elbow grease & luck

Even though sky’s blue

So there she rests!

Satisfied soul, peace

Abundance abounds

All tensions release

Confidant & true

Allow nothing less

Faithful & loved

A gift, how blessed

Worthy of mercy

No one really is

But He gives freely

Exhibit A: This

She forgets nothing

Not one memory

Comes home to the heart

Sacred treasury

Bubbly big cheeks

Her favorite part

Energy exchange

Together | Apart

There’s something about

Happy heart’s center

Levity, she flies

Prepped for adventure

No expectations

What will be will be

Confidence in plan

Certain jubilee

Till grays & wrinkles

Never she’ll stop

Then even then

Gratitude backdrop

Passion deep passion

Color bright her core

Inspired for now

Dreams forever soar

Breathwork

Inhale: Confidence

God’s armor like chainmail around her heart

Hold: Peace

The knowing that with this armor she doesn't have to worry, she just has to wear it proud

Exhale: Surrender

Letting thoughts come and go and saying grounded in love, in what is true, in what is right

Brownstone

4am rumbles slowly rolled into 6am lightning. Still dark outside, the sounds and flashes brought a strange sense of comfort. Though, not strange to her. She found this weather utterly divine. For a brief moment she shifted into consciousness. A soft up-turn of the lips emerged knowing a dreary day was in store. Rolling back over to her other side and pulling the lush comforter with her, she slipped back into a snooze. While the New York hustle and bustle was already underway, she was tucked in tight with the sweetest company. She gave herself the grace to sleep in while still recovering from her premier exhibit the night before. A purposefully cleared calendar meant she could stay there all day if she desired.  

He wasn't thrilled about the move to the big city but he was thrilled for her. It wasn't forever, or at least it didn't have to be. But he was willing to support her here and that meant the world. She wasn't the best or the smartest in the room but she was certainly the biggest dreamer. Through sheer tenacity, an open heart, and with the talent she did have, those dreams (more often than not) came true. From spinning, to sculptures, to all sorts of oddities in between, this untrained potter blossomed in her second go of a career. This time in a quiet? corner of the West Village. 

The slightest sliver of sunlight peeked through the stormy downpour and began to flood this cozy brownstone. Natural light and a luxurious kitchen had been her only criteria when deciding where to live. He found the perfect space for them which had all she wanted and more. On the premise of a temporary residence, they went all out. Maybe her dreamer, risk taking tendencies were wearing off on him just a smidge after all these years. Sound drowned out by the rain, there was no honking this morning or bike bells ringing. Even the birds seemed to have slept in. It was as if they were the only two souls within miles. Even if they weren’t, with how tunnel visioned they were on each other, they couldn't tell the difference. 

Finding herself awake for the second time, she decided to open her eyes. He had been watching her. Not in a creepy way - more so in a “wow, this is amazing” way. She smirked and without skipping a beat popped out of bed, wrapped herself in the pristine white bedding she treated herself to,  then hopped out the bedroom window onto their private ivy wrapped terrace. Only a drizzle now, she craved to feel the droplets on her skin. For no other reason than to relish in the gratitude of life this morning and all that had led up to it. She couldn't help but laugh as she twirled around, squinting up at the overcast. 

At first he just looked on in the loving way he often did. But that contagious giggle drew him in. He wasn't about to miss out on the fun she seemed to curate out of simple nothingness and launched out of bed, to meet her. Surprised by how cold this late summer rain landed on his chest, the chill injected an extra bounce of energy. He scooped her up and spun her around. In their embrace, the earth stopped spinning. Time was infinite, a momentary but everlasting utopia. It was them against the world. It had always been afterall.

On & On

Screaming but the words don't come out

Only in her dreams is she ever able to shout

Left in silence, feeling defeat

What happens when her heart and voice cant meet

Who could she turn to that would fully understand

Furthermore would they even dare to take her hand

Hold her and say

‘Darling it will be ok’

And ever in a way

Where all the darkness holds at bay

Certainly in this life there will come a time

Where there is rest, and peace, and sublime

Off in the distance she still holds out hope

Up the hill she climbs, the steepest of slopes

The beauty all around, where her focus lies

Climbing in altitude, up towards the sky

Back down to earth, worry dissipates for now

Grounded in today, unconcerned with the how

Hillsides and waterfalls and flowers all around

Thanks in her heart, knowing she is found

Held by mother nature, although still distant

Helps overcome trials, at least in this instant

Higher and higher, the peak now in sight

But is it the first or the last, only known by flight

Each crest an achievement, a moment of rejoice

The journey, its stunning, slowly finding her voice

Not as she thought, it rarely ever is

But still present, maybe only internal bliss…

Expressed from within. Maybe noise isn’t necessary

Light, energy, expression can be just as extraordinary

Revived and present, marching on with great stride

Determined with each step, to shine from inside

Seamless

Lying side by side, her back nestled into his front. Creating the perfect zig-zag shape as if their bodies were made for each other.

This was home.

She gazed out the window with soft eyes, finally surrendering to the peace and calm that washed over her. His arm wrapped around her, she drew his hand into her chest. Holding his thumb in her palm and dozing off to the gentle second hand’s rhythm on his wrist. 

This was home.

Neither hardly had the time for an afternoon nap, but today they did. Neither actually hit REM but each found rest. Seamless they lay, scooting ever closer to fill the gap that was already closed. It never got too hot nor too cold. Salty sea air brought in a crisp breeze while their warmth melted any chance of shivers.

This was home.

The best part about being near the water in the winter was seeing the juxtaposed coarse crashing waves against a silent, serene, horizon that extended into infinity. Sunsets weren’t messy like the summer, although those were mesmerizing too. But when dusk arrived in December, the sky hosted a seamless rainbow. She could never precisely pick out where the pink faded to purple or purple disappearing into blue. And then the stars. Oh the winter night’s sky held all the secrets of the universe! There was no summer haze or stormy cloud cover to hide any of it.

This was home.

There they laid, seamless, as one. With no agenda, no ‘To-Do’s’, completely free of obligation. Left to count the dust particles that sprinkled around the room, dancing in the setting sun beams. With just a giant king pillow big enough to land between their knees and to hug tight too, she couldn’t remember the last day her eyes were dry. They weren’t here either but these were happy tears. 

If only for this moment in time, it was worth it.

This was home.

Stellar Formation

Disturbance

Drawing inward

Collapse

Disorientation

Spinning 

Heat 

Finally…Eruption

Each almost catastrophic to mortals, but within the universe: Stellar Formation

Only after millions of gruelling years does the light then begin to shine. More bright and brilliant than ever existed before. Offset from earthly life. However an uncanny macro of all the processes she ironically parallels. 

But oh what majesty results! Illuminating the darkness, chasing away the shadows. A gift to any who dare to peek up. To take in the once delicate stardust, acknowledging the trial and time to become.

How jealous she is of the satellites who get to zoom through the sea of wonder. On clear nights she can find both. The radiant constellations mingling with mechanical moving modules. What she wouldn't give to live up there too. Weightless and wandering, overwhelmed and in orbit. There's enough extravagance to eradicate error and worry and waiting and heartache.

Vibrant nebula violets splattered into infinity.

Falling back down to the ‘now’ where the soft sweet grass cradles her frame. The sun fully set, she finds Venus and Orion, old friends. With each passing moment, mesmerized by what she’ll spot next. 

Eyes heavy, heart light, drifting off into the night.

Her Language

A spectacular invention, the five digits that dangle below her delicate narrow wrist.

Dainty and calloused

Scars and polish

The stories they tell

How familiar they know the water

Memory carved into each muscle

Bracing for impact, splitting the surface

Thrusting the rest of her body through the cold chlorinated wet

How tender they hold the rest of her

Softly quenching her legs with lotion

Gently manipulating each golden strand into place

Remembering how to play

How firm and steadfast they move

Navigating red spinning clay into wavy tall cylinders

Pushing and pulling to find a shape that matches her imagination just so

How expressive

The damn Italian genes exposing every sacred thought she attempted to shelter

Her hands, they gave her away. But only if one payed attention.

Nervous fidgets or longing pressure or tense fists or splayed with excitement

A mystery unless one knew the language.

Her language.

Which, half the time her own frontal lobe couldn't even translate.

Her body knew

And thats now she moved

Long abandoned the idea of restraining expression. It was hard enough to hold her tongue.

If one wanted to read her, to know her, to calculate her contemplations….

It was all there. In her hands, raised eyebrows, the tilt of her head, a twinkle or eye roll, the micro-smirks or pursing of the lips, and undoubtedly that big cheeks smile. The arch of her back, shifting in her seat, turning away…turning towards.

Even in an attempt to be stone cold, she couldn't stop breathing after all. Slow inhales or heavy swift sighs. If nothing else  the ups and downs of her slender collar bones, framed by a scoop neckline was nothing short of a dead give away. 

Zooming in, even the pulse in the pocket resting below her voice could spill her secrets.

When calm, slow steady rhythm

When heated, a little faster beat

When filled with joy, sporadic, untouchable, uncontrolled

In the end, she didnt really mind.

She craved the transparency she displayed to be captured

She craved to be seen and beheld without having to ask for it

She wanted the world without whispering a word

Her dreams on silent? exhibit

Every desire, wish, opinion, moment of curiosity, fleeting feeling….available on her surface.

As self aware as she (thought at least she) was, she was never quite certain how often she was read, or by whom. Certainly she picked up her own unspoken language on everyone else. She could read them as well as they might be able to her. Even this sometimes was unexpectedly crippling. Why so sensitive.

What is inside, she pondered, yearning to digest every invisible detail of the soul.

Eyes shifting down, one thumb softly circling the arch of the other wrist, getting lost in every wrinkle, fold, and freckle.

POV: Heart Center

Surrounded by warmth

Electricity pulsing

Her steady heart beats

Signals up from the gut: gooey, glitter lava lamp

Signals down from the mind: curious, brilliant galaxy 

Inputs never ending:

Forceful, blunt, overwhelming, lovely, scary, loud, gentle, familiar, memorable, surprising

None too much to interrupt.

Thump thump

Thump thump

This rhythm consistent, persistent, home.

She tests her heart all too often, both deliberately and not.

Steadfast.

Thump thump

Thump thump

This heart, deceptively powerful.

Can beat in sync with love

Can rush to help her run 

Can protect her when nothing else is certain.

What a gift living inside, dancing with her soul, dressed in God’s armor, spilling out from her center, present whether she is or not.

Thump thump a little louder then.

To bring her back. To remind her…”Here sweet girl, always here for you”

Trust then is whats left. Faith. Belief.

Poised on the corner of the mountain. Heart seemingly stranded opposite the canyon.

She must leap, she must jump, she must

Surrender

She considers letting her guard down.

Bit by bit

Thump thump

Heart. Here. Home.

Depleted

Wanting to write but the words don't come out.

Craving creativity but the crayon caves into dust.

Reaching, grasping, longing, for security, sense of hope, light, giddy, feminine, elated feeling that has sense melted into mere memory.

Will it ever come back? Of course.

But when.

The impatience feels impossible.

Watches movies, cries to sad songs.

Theres no reason even to be sad.

Embarrassment. 

She's too much, then she's not enough. Never enough. 

Fine. Sleep.

Try again.

Dusts herself off. Picks herself up.

Step by step.

“Forward is a pace”

Cuddle the pup. Play happy harmonies.

Find the smile. Even if its a practice smile…the real one will find its way home eventually.

The clouds roll in. Vibrating waves of white across the sky.

“You’re ok.” She hears in her mother’s voice to herself.

“You’re going to be ok.”

Winding Road

The winding road, where does it go?

Through fog,  lights glow, how could she know?

Dying to figure out where this path leads

Still choosing ‘happy’ even when her heart bleeds

Smiling her best, overflowing with love

If only she could soar to see high above

To take a peek at what this curving path sees

While moving in patience, admiring the trees

Steadfast, determined, persisting for better or worse

Growing in grace, stronger still despite the course 

The winding road, where does it go?

If she knew the destination, would she still have that glow?

That radiant light she cant help but spill over

Taking in pain and loss, of course she’ll recover 

So step by step with hope in her heart

Even if she is scared at the start

This, her internal world craving adventure big and small

Knowing a leap might lead to a fall

But she loves to fly, craves the wind’s fingers combing through her locks

So on the goes, embracing what knocks

Down the winding road with optimistic fingers crossed

Regardless of the outcome, her heart is never lost

Ignited

And then the rain came, her heart too falling just like each drop ever more in love all over.

The heat, the rush, the gravitational suction back in, back home. 

Hand in hand they sprint out from the waves. He picks her up, spins her around, then with passion and pursuit pulls her in. Wrapping his arms around her, and holding on tight - one can see the physical manifestation of their chemistry. The energy that is constant. All the while, the sky weeps. With joy, with relief, healing waters come in a downpour.

Lost in each other, they tumble back home. He engulfs his love in a blanket to calm the shivering shoulders, always looking out for her, then starts to build what would turn into a glowing dance to crackle into the night.

The resting sun below the horizon now but enough light remains to cast whispering shadows of trees in this fairytale forest. Finally thawed out, she slouches curled up in the softest sweater ever produced and just watches - a fire in her eyes before one is ever lit. His strong hands, piece by piece stacking expired tree remnants, practically an art form. Next, the kindling is meticulously managed for a long lasting burn. In a flash the stack is ignited, flames shooting up, and  in, and out, burning loud inside their souls at the same time too, impossible to extinguish. 

All at Once

The lonely night is over. She can't have both cloudy days and clear nights. If she wants to see the stars, count the planets, get lost in the galaxy, then suffering through that harsh winter sun is part of the equation too. And tonight, that's ok. 

Oh how they wave back at her devotion with a twinkle or a shoot across the sky. If stars can dance, then so can she. 

Waking up to the crispy cold frost that awaits, slowly drifting out of her dream state, she rolls over. Having migrated to his side of the bed, she finds warmth. Left to her own devices, 5’5” can conquer an entire king sized bed. She is mighty after all. Dilation begins to shrink as the spotty rays sneak in through the meticulously selected grey linen curtains that cascade down either side of the window. The two mysterious emerald universes on either side of her nose squint (waking up the wrinkles too) and then arrives the most satisfying big full body stretch with the faintest squeak at the end. She signals to the morning she’s joined. It is a good morning. This is a really good morning.

Floating to the kitchen, coffee is already dripping. Deliciousness fills the air, a mix of mocha, christmas ferns, and joy.  She peeks out the window. He is already up minding the garden in a melody of meditation. How she admires the pristine rows, the care given to even the corners never observed. Mastering his craft, he looks up. Feeling those adoring eyes observing, how could he not meet them. 

There’s no place to be. Just in this cozy moment, locked in, Knowing this is then, now, and forever all at once.

What is Knowing

To her it is the unexplainable calm that peers out under the pile of anxiety and depression and destruction that habitually looms on the surface. The calm is stronger than all the rest but silent still. It doesn’t need to be loud. That calm is ever present for her to find, for her to reach, but she only can when she gets out of her own way.

Letting the tears stream, the questions come - crying “why”, the uncontrollable sobs...letting it all out until she cannot possibly make another sound. Then silence. Then the calm. At her weakest, most raw, surrendered state, it takes over. She can think with clarity. Optimism opens the door to her heart. Hope happens to stroll through. Love lights the lamp inside. That is the knowing. The glow that returns, shining from the inside. Regardless of actual circumstance, she finds the spirit within, the strength to smile. 

There is more depth to that smile now perhaps. Depth in knowing all that went into it, depth in knowing what comes out of it. Wrinkles from nose crinkles and a big teeth smile but, most critically, the twinkle in those olive disks when the light is just right. 

She has learned her smile is her super power, her energy exchange, how she heals (herself and others). So she does. Wiping the tears away, making room for the calm. She smiles. Thats how she goes on.

Goes on to do big things, to excel at whatever she puts her mind to. Goes on to plan more adventures, imagined and actual. Goes on with a new softness. That old hardened heart from childhood is no longer of use. Shell cracked and melted away, she can be soft now. And without fear, even though sometimes she still is afraid. 

Discipline does not lack empathy, the two can coexist in the knowing. 

Overextending still requires rest. The  knowing shows her what that looks like more clearly.

Most of all she’s found that love and devastation are not at odds, rather close neighbors. (Each takes turns winning ‘best lawn of the month’.) Each unmistakably beautiful in their own depth. Each contributes in some way to that smile, that inner light shining through.

So she goes on, the dreamer that she is, to play “best case scenario” every day. And even when she’s caught off guard, when the stars dont align, when waves of inner destruction crash down again, she still finds a way to love through it all. To return to the calm, the knowing that is always with her deep down, and smile.

Blue Sky Days

How she hates blue sky days. The sun so bright she might as well be a bug under a microscope inspected bit by bit. Sometimes it's too much to bear. Especially now. No clouds above to keep her company. To say “you’re not alone”, to say “it's ok”, to say whatever else she’s made up for the sky to tell her and bring her comfort and confidence. 

But nothing. There’s no recovery - not on a blue sky day at least. Only waiting. Waiting for weather, for a perfect storm, for some reassurance, for some something. 

What to do in the meantime, how to manage… The only thing she can do is her best. To put blinders on. To be honorable and true especially when its hard, especially when it hurts. She loves anyway, that is one thing she can control. To love and to expire any expectations of love in return. Or even to discover that love in return looks completely different than what she thought it might.  She tries to escape less. She tries to “be here now” more. But what is her reward, a naked sky, a blinding sun, a night that will never come. 

So she follows her own advice: prayer, gratitude, affirmations, sweat, faking it until she makes it. Even a forced smile brings some relief. Seeing the best in what is around her, hoping and praying that only the best is seen in her too, as she cannot bear to disappoint. And then, moment by moment, slowly but surely, it all lifts. Not today, maybe not tomorrow either but it does lift. Because it always does. Evidence that she is in fact not alone. That loneliness is only temporary even though, in the moment, it feels eternal. 

There will come a day when there are only ever exquisite sunrises dusted with clouds and colors. When the sky above is moody and full of character and curiosity. When the sunsets are only ever inspiring and never sullen or bleak. Maybe it's the distance between these moments and then that will make the ‘then’ even more overwhelmingly wonderful than she can imagine. God works in mysterious ways. It's none of her business how it all turns out but it is her business to trust and to have faith and to live in joyful obedience, learning how to do that better all the while.

One Day

A cozy mountain mansion. 

Where community gathers and isolation isn't lonely. Where there are cool evenings and frequent drizzles and immaculate sun sets and the perfect amount of natural light, intimate and not too bright. 

A vibey library and an airy open living space. Trees all around but mountain views too. And of course “a big old porch that wraps around the entire house.”

Does such a place exist? Can it with the imagined peace and vibrance and comfort she creates in her mind?

There is promise. 

On a Friday, souls move and dance and laugh and dine all together. Memories soak into the walls.

On a Saturday, its tea for two watching the sun rise, set, and manifesting a future in between.

On a Sunday, it's silent. The music is the whistling wind and the whisper of puppy snores.

There is never dust or clutter but a well lived in home all the same. 

Even if only an idea today, anything is possible. It always works out.

Where to Next

They played this little game best of three gin rummy. The Loser spun the globe, the winner blindly placed a pin. 

And that’s how they decided. Not just the adventure next but they took a similar approach on so many other decisions. Big and small. Together, playful, low stakes, and always with tenderness. It was their very nature. Not independently but the nature of the pair as a unit. 

She was fiery and risk taking and creative and everything all at once with no concern for consequences because luck was always on her side. 

He was her calm, steady pursuit, brilliant, and strong, strategic but with the most comforting voice of guidance and assurance. And she followed his lead without question because he made her feel safe and whole and home. 

The mix was one for the ages. Together unstoppable but alone, each their own kind of chaos. 

They needed each other, that’s the only way the remarkable machine worked. 

Of course there were moments, and seasons even, of confusion and misunderstanding but in the end they always found resolve. For their love was eternal. More than that, the passion and intense need for one another only increased over time. 

Tunnel visioned on each other the world could crumble all around, and sometimes it did, but they remained at peace deep down. 

This time the pin pricked Patagonia

To climb, to camp, to cuddle under the stars. In wonder at the wilderness. 

So, nestled in their cozy cabin where the rain sang their favorite songs, the next adventure began.

St. Moritz

And in that moment she remembered how good it felt to be kissed by the sun. That piercing July sky radiating off of her cheeks…. Looking out over the snow capped mountains, happy humans gliding left and right down the slopes. Whispers in French, laughing in Italian, beer clinks accompanied by a deep hearty “Prost!” in unison. 

In this winter wonderland they’re curled up in the corner of a cafe, taking in all the joy around. Both exhausted after a morning attempting to ski like the pro’s. She for the second time, him for the first. Her, finding confidence again after the accident so long ago. He switching from a snowboard, just for fun in St. Moritz. An adventure together falling, finding, learning, laughing…together.

While the offerings are endless in this magical getaway, this time is focused. Focused on each other, on coming together after a grueling season. Worries, and to-do’s, and ‘what if’s’ melt away. Work can't reach them here. 

Mornings are spent between ice cold powder down the pants from frequent stumbles and finally finding a rhythm. The thrill returns. The adrenalin pumping. Frosty air in the face, a feeling of freedom. She’ll make it down in one piece this time, more than that he is cheering her on. Both racing, basking in the views, is this place even real?

These mornings melt into cozy midday recovery, reconnection, romance….then getting ready for what's next. Does there have to be a next? They can experience whatever their heart desires…and they do.

No words exchanged, moving as one, in sync as if this place, this time, these moments were perfectly choreographed just for them.

Tomorrow is the Snow Polo World Cup. What?? Rather, why not?!

As the afternoon expires, a slow carriage ride awaits. Down the red velvet stairs, she floats in a silk floor length backless canary yellow gown. He is waiting there for her with an exquisite, and unnecessary but completely wonderful all the same, fur coat. His watch peeking out from under the crisp cuff of the flawlessly tailored navy threads, he glances for the time. Mostly late but not tonight. She teases by arriving just as the chimes hit seven just for him. For that grin, the look that says it all. 

He wraps her up, finishing with a tight squeeze and a kiss on the temple. They’re off to dine under the stars. The waiters skate each course to the table one by one, wine glasses never empty, smiles never fading. Feeling completely out of place they lock eyes and stifle a giggle. Taking it all in as if they naturally belong, and tonight they do. 

Delighted and dancing and filled with dessert, they drift back through their door. Dress dropped to the floor, the dream continues.

Refine

If her heart was extracted. Sliced open chest. Carve out her soul and dissect. What would it look like? Infinite little pieces somehow magically inspected one by one - to the point at which it would be impossible to reconstruct…

A pile of light

A pile of dark

A pile of glitter

A pile of sorrow

A pile of delight

A pile of poison

A pile of memories

A pile of longing

A pile of regret

A pile of hope

A pile of confusion

A pile of desire

A pile of anxiety

A pile of gratitude 

A pile of “one days”

A pile of love…how could she forget

Is her heart really so different from another’s? Probably not. That brings her comfort. Not that she is the same (the secret is that she likes to be different). “Unique” and “quirky” while awkward in her youth, is what makes her shine today. But more so comfort in that she’s not alone.

Still though she questions…is she needed, is she valued, does it even matter?

On a good day (most days are good) the answer is that no, the answers to these questions do not matter. 

It's the other days where this pesky idea becomes a little bigger slice in the pie of her brain. Reverse pacman eating all the yellow away, until there is a circle of black.

Prayer, community, silence, giving love, giving thanks…this is the cure.

God is so good, she knows this truth - a foundation, a fact. Why then is it so hard to embrace fully?

He is for her, He loves her, He is so proud of who she is. Most of all, He is merciful and His plans are so much better. It's ok to go dark…there is always light in the “morning”. 

The internal wrestle is really just the heart stones, the infinite pieces, grinding against each other. Smoothing out rough edges. Refining over time. What a delightful idea that the struggle is for good. 

This is how she comes back out. Clean, shiny, new, pristine.

Looking back at it all, a chuckle. Because all of the big things, the insurmountable events, the catastrophe. Really they turned out to just be bumps now undetectable. Necessary to the erosion process. 

The infinite pieces are never reconstructed. That would be a return to sameness. No. Only the best pieces remain. Unfinished business until then, the grind continues. At first from a place of effort and obligation. 

But after the cure, the prayer, the community, the silence…all the things…. The tossing and turning is only just a dance. 

Heart open to the next storm, the next waltz, to refine ever more.

Mov(ing) Along

And out of nowhere, a slow sad melody plays on low, the tears well up uncontrollably and melt down her sleepy cheeks. It's 0530 in the morning and the sun hasnt even gotten out of bed yet. Driving down the dark familiar path, caffeine beginning to pulse through her veins. 

She is not in the dark though, not the time at least. She feels the sorrow, she sits in the yuck, she lets the flood fill her eyelids. In the same way a deep tissue massage hurts so good, this does too. Why is she addicted to the intensity? The good, the bad, the highs, the lows. To feel feels good. She is alive in these moments. Right or wrong, she craves them to a fault. Even this micro storm, when it passes, makes her stronger. Even just a little. Everything is going to be ok, everything is always working out for her. 

The short seven minute commute comes to a close. Somehow the volume had turned to level ten too - the whole block could sing along. Turning the corner to the familiar green neon lights, a second home. To lift, to shift, to move through it all. The salty droplets are now those of sweat. No one could even guess they were not moments ago. The heat in her body spreads from her heart to the surface. A semblance still of the fading summer tan, pretty like the sun. 

Flushing out the seemingly random (or not yet willing to admit otherwise) sadness. Forcefully forward, nostalgic angsty twenty year old tunes bumping through the earbuds. Two short hours later, she’s lived two years. Today is a new day, and it's going to be a good one.

Before You Go

On the edge and down below,

the water ripples and you glow.

“3, 2, 1….3, 2, 1…3, 2, 1 go”

The rush, the wind, the speed, the spots,

around and around and once more, stop.

Kick, look, move, punch.

The release into water, you had a hunch.

In your soul you knew

before you ever made a move:

“Everything always works out for me”

Flying through the air, that’s where I am free.

The thrill, intoxicating. You keep coming back for more.

Pain of imperfection, when you miss, you’re sore.

For days, sometimes weeks - shoulders, thighs back,

but you return again to feel the water break, the sound of the crack.

Addicted to adrenaline, to overcoming fear,

to jump off the platform, surface instantly near.

Diving head first, sometimes unknown,

pride and confidence and a kickass “yes” confirmation….

You’re in the zone.

Only five chances to prove your worth.

All of the blood, sweat, smacks, and tears to come in first.

Ten meters high, on top of your world,

You do it again, even when your brain is swirled. 

Obsessed, dependant, a slave to that pain,

because even a good one - you still feel for days.

You can't get enough, the silence, spins, rips.

And when it's all over, your heart - it's in bits.

The training, the reps, learning everyday

“You will get better,” you tell yourself. You say:

you can do it, you can

(you already have).

You’ve proven yourself again and again.

Always hungry for more - you can always be better.

No perfect 10’s just another day wetter.

Years pass, there is growth, but it’s never enough.

Unbounded love, you will never give up.

Just one more as you swim to the side,

up the stairs, to the edge, 3, 2, 1…glide

And in the arena, mom and dad cheer.

Before you go, knowing you belong here.