You stepped off the plate, shaking your muscles out. When you stepped back in I had this feeling settle in my bones as to what was going to happen next.
As soon as the ball made its way towards you, you prepared yourself.
With the popping connection of the ball and your bat, the muggy air around us suddenly sprung to life with electricity.
The crowd watched with their jaws slightly dropped down as the ball flew so high it could have disappeared.
When it landed on the other side of the fence I erupted into loud whoops with the crowd watching you finish running your bases. As soon as your feet hit home plate, lightning stuck down, and one thought registered amongst the people around; you just ended the night and took it all for yourself. Congrats darling <3
It’s the most sudden aching that strikes me
So I hold my breath in, just with hopes that everything will stop
And when my face is turning red and my head and heart stars pounding harder. I will finally release.
Then I repeat
I can’t help it, you’re in my head, surrounding my thoughts and decisions. There isn’t a second I go without you creeping into my mind.
I hold it all in, release, and repeat.
Once you’re finally letting go, you realize you can’t lose me, so while I’m over here holding my breath because I feel it too you’re on the other side, throwing a hook and line, reeling me back in because I always come back in.
It’s kind of like one of those endless wave pools. There is the calm, almost placid stillness to the water before another wave comes at you. You get a chance to refill your lungs before another one comes. Always the smallest recovery before the damage comes again.
So I will hold my breath until I’m red and blue, release it all, and start again.
my entire life can be described as
‘almost saying something and then deciding not to for fear of embarrassment
and then saying it anyway for fear of exploding
and then wishing i hadn’t said anything’
tonight i am going to save face for both of us
and sleep off the sickness and the cloud in my brain
and all the heavy hollow in my chest
i’ll fill it with the words i swallow
every time i hear your name in my head
and lie wide awake and restless in bed
I will just lay here and breathe.
Breathe in the hot tears that roll down my cheekbones.
Let them soak into my skin, into my nerves and into my scattered mind.
The thoughts that are rolling through in this process strike me to the heart.
Almost like you have your hand gripped around it tight, but with a loose touch that lets me know you mean me no harm.
I will just breathe.
Laying here now, my toes start to tingle along with my lips. The feeling of your fingers around my pulse is what pulls me in deeper, almost on a level of hazy saturation.
The salty water continues to slowly pour from my ducts, burning its way down to my jaw.
That’s when I sit up, gliding my spine straight; parallel to you.
We are like mirror neurons.
At the straightness of my spine though, one burning tear drops from my jawline and down to your exposed wrist.
I think this is when you really focus in, especially on the fact that we are really here.
You remove your hand from its position on my heart and rest it in my palm, interlocking our fingers with a similar grip.
Now it is my turn; to focus in on the fact that this is what love feels like and this is how it should be.
I clutch your hand with an equal force returned and just when an I love you is ready to tumble from my lips you beat me to the punch line with your other hand placed on the curve of my neck; no resistance in the shadows of each others eyes, we know.
I mirror you’re other hand, noticing how we are both breathing, no longer laying here, but with our straight spines and cracking smiles, we pull each other in for good.
You’re fine with being alone but you’re not fine with someone who is equally okay with being alone as you are…
My anxiety activates my gag reflex.
It’s a pulsating beat at the hollow of my neck, keeping time with my heart until it eventually surpasses the rhythm.
From there it’s not slow, it’s racing up my throat, striking a humming in my head that eventually grows to a strong ring; sort of like the kind you have after standing next to the speakers the entire time at a rock concert.
It always stops though, right before the signal is actually sent out to my brain, to work at the fact that my body believes the only way to alleviate the anxiety sparking around in my head, muscles, and blood, is to empty whatever contents rest in my stomach.
After that, what ever caused the process to start is stored away into a sharply flushed, black box located at the darkest corner of my mind.
No title shown, no title necessary.
They are the insecurities that keep me awake at night hiding and crying into my pillow.
My insecurities lock me away.
You cannot pretend everything is okay if you do not look the part of being okay..
I am looking out for everyone; except myself.