warm breeze, soft sand, cold beer.

The air was thick, the humidity lingered all through the night. Bodies damp from sweat, breathing heavy, lapping in the fresh air that slips in through the window. The sky was an inky blue, and my heart felt renewed again. It only takes small reminders, a sideways smile, your hand resting lightly on the small of my back. A year ago, or was it a lifetime? I was somewhere else, someone else, with somebody else - for what, I cannot be sure. I am confident in my choices, respected in my decision to go slower. It's so easy to get caught up in the excitement of speed - but you and I both know, this ones made to last. So we take smaller steps, and often stop and rest and enjoy what's going on around us. I don't need the thrill of speed anymore, in fact, I need the comfort of slow. My heart is so full that there are moments I feel as though I might burst. and I think that would be okay, really. The days are long, the nights are hot, and I'm smiling from the bottom up. I won't forget to breathe x

Sabotage

I yearn to write. But shit gets fucked up, and I'm all over the map again.. can't sit, can't speak - the mumbling nonsense I do manage to string together sounds stale in my mouth. It can't be that bad, can it? I toss and turn, and I defend my disposition as if it gives ground to ravage my heart to pieces. Worn out, worn thin - it's all been said before, hasn't it?  I know, I know - it is temporary. Always shifting, always changing face ... and we cope. The wind will surely come along and blow away this mood with the dust and the pollen that has my face swollen and stuffed. In this moment, I am temporarily paralyzed by anxiety. Do you get that? It's much less isolating, when I know it's understood. It's no use to pretend, and I've let go of the illusion that it's anyone elses responsibility to release my anger. I open my head and my heart, and I wait patiently for the breeze to take the mood with the wind.