bout.
Storm clouds gather,
threatening to flood a pot-holed journey home,
my tears finding their rhythm in the jolts.
An atomic thread of faith.
The promise of hope, crystal.
The pit of my stomach, tar.
Chest heaving. World cracking.
Lip quivering;
Fight or flight.
Body and Heart, boxers in a reluctant embrace,
gloves touching once, before the bell.
Each seeking dominance over who protects me.
“MINE!” Heart roars,
a sharp uppercut piercing Body,
cracking the dam,
tears pressing hard against the narrow crevices of my eyes.
Blinking fast.
Body absorbs the second blow,
jetting upright,
jabbing a powerful KO to Heart,
cementing victory.
“Not today.“
Heart falters.
crouched in fear, helplessness.
Even shame.
Body towers, steady.
Smiles.
The bell.
The arena stills.
No applause follows.
Only the echo of what almost broke.
We live to fight another day.
Quiet.
A widowed old lady at her supper table, tv faintly glowing,
Suspiring, exhaled strands of longing,
suspended
almost mockingly
before dissipating.
Theater sigh.
I finally consider.
Ugh. Should I?
That I have a Comforter, a Friend,
Who leads me in all truth about… everything?
This FECAL moment? This loop? Purgatory of emotional distress?
I hear you, Holy Spirit. I do.
But imma see for myself.
Not sure you hear me on this one, but,
You listen.
Not going to tire myself numbing an asynchronous symphony;
heart on E, mind on C, body on F,
soul rockin’ and rollin’ to a jazz beat.
Surrender? Lol, no. No.
Not yet.
Hand on the wheel.
Still.
But softer now.
Let me pull over.
Let me turn to You.
Theater sigh.
Let’s walk through this storm together.
— Cuspar
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