and it all moves;
the conveyor belt ocean,
the sailboat clouds.
I will never look at the same ones again
and yet, I will never mourn them.
I am already comfortable accepting impermenance.
I am already comfortable in the swell of change.
I will confront this fate over and over again
and one day it will feel as natural as it does here.

I keep finding myself clawing at the past in vain and I never get back. I never reach her. I never get the chance to tell her to hold on tighter... that there are things ahead of her that might make everything she loves dissolve into thin air. The knocking on the door will never go away and it will only get louder and louder until there is banging on every wall around her and it will follow her and it will echo and she cannot hide from it anymore. I have to tell her that she will be forced to surrender, but she can do so with honor. She will put up a good fight because that's all she knows how to do. But please, I'll beg, come and rest. And we will cry.

when runners collapse
to the ground after a race

is it exhaustion?
relief?
overwhelm?
gratitude?