Lyrical Musings an emotional journey via train of thought

I used to feel so much

and let myself

overwhelm with emotion

and I would revel in what it feels like

just to be alive

because all that pain, my broken heart

meant it was still beating

and I was still here

despite all of life’s attempts otherwise

but then I stopped

too overcome with worry

that if I let myself feel, I would wallow

become trapped in that pit of despair

unable to emerge again

now I know not who I am

nor what to do with myself

maybe I just needed to ball it all up

shrink it down

and turn it around and around in my hands

examine the problem from every angle

and begin to pick

a needle here, a wriggle there

to understand where the cracks lie

figure out how it comes together

when it all falls apart

and begin to unfold it

so I can access the feelings trapped inside

lean into them

give them life

say them aloud

and write them for all to see

no longer trapped in the ball

behind a wall of denial

inside of me

if all I needed to do this whole time

was examine those emotions

let them out

not to dominate me

but simply so they could whisk away with the wind

and I could finally breathe

maybe I never would have lost my words

or myself

to this overwhelming need to shut down

and run away

maybe I would have found safety

in simply standing in place

standing my ground

as the storm swirled on around me

riding out the storm instead of running

and hiding away from the world

but what’s done is done

and all that is left to do now

is rebuild

and try to remember my safety plan

for future storms

Run. Keep running as fast as you can, breaths exploding in your lungs and feet barely touching the ground. Run as if your life depends on it, and don’t look back. Keep your gaze laser-focused on what’s ahead of your, your periphery a blur as you leap and bound over every obstacle. 

Run as though you are being chased. But you are not the chased, the prey. You are the chaser, the predator. You know your goal, can almost visualize it. It’s so close. It will be yours. You run.

Your lungs and calves are on fire. Every breath and every step is more difficult than the last. Have your legs already been that heavy? But you must run. Keep running. Sweat drips down your face; you can taste it on your tongue. It coalesces at the nape of your neck in your hair and drips into your eyes, the salt stinging them. You blink in a vain attempt to clear them and see straight. You’re almost there; keep running.

You can no longer hear anything above the pounding of blood in your veins, your heart trying to beat out of your chest, your ragged breaths. Whatever else may be happening in the world, you are deaf to it. As you run.

It can’t be much longer now, you think to yourself, pushing ahead with the last shred of energy you possess. You hope it isn’t much longer. Keep running. You can do this. You have to.

The world looks red, your pupils want to constrict, and you can feel the sweat pooling behind your knees and in the small of your back. You know you can’t take much more of this. Pretty soon, you won’t be able to keep running.

Every heave of your chest is a herculean feat. To lift your leg is like pushing a several-ton boulder uphill. You keep running, but your pace has slowed. For a brief moment, you anticipate your heart giving out and your body dropping to the ground right then.

But then, the alarm. You’re jolted from that reverie. The treadmill slows and so does your pace. You no longer have to keep running. Focus on breathing, returning to equilibrium. Grab a towel and sop up the sweat on your face, your neck.

Step off the back of the treadmill and feel the hard ground beneath you. The world is no longer moving. You can stop running. You can relax, drop your shoulders. Examine the room around you as you gulp water, droplets landing on your chest.

You are safe, for now. You no longer need to run. Without the pain in your muscles and your knees, you can focus on the endorphins rushing through your body and welcome the high. Your grimace can upturn every so slightly. Your cycle is complete. The stress cycle has completed. For now.

And for now you can return to the land of the living, of suits-and-ties, meetings and red tape, and cubicles trussed up to look a little less like coffins. Take your place among the peons and CEOs sitting at their desks in front of their computers all resisting the urger to run even though they don’t know what they’re running from.