This home is such a mess.
This heart feels like a war zone.
All of these great things I’m grateful for
are piled up and strewn all over the floor and the bed and couch
And my brain; I’m over-thinking so much, my head wants out…
I once heard someone say,
and I like it
because it means that maybe this home wasn’t always a messy place
and maybe somewhere down the line, this heart can be whole again.
That’s better than ice-cream.
But it’s scary
because it means you shouldn’t pace yourself.
“a long, hard climb” to the place —
You won’t create a new record time in this race.
This poem doesn’t even need to rhyme…
but it does, once in a line.
It’s such a long way down to the love that you started from.
It feels a lot longer if you crawl
It will hurt. A lot.
But when you fall
you land on the promise that you will be caught.