It may be easier than yesterday.
I feel it that way
when I recall a previous day,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
because I believed
the road would be long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I watched
the ceiling pressing down on me,
my chest was
caught between it and the mattress,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
cutting off
my breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I can\u2019t help
but laugh a little.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mind
makes an instinctive denial,
almost immediate,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
which reminds me
how funny it is
to remember myself
in that state.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wish I could have
this clarity
and that sarcasm<\/p>\n\n\n\n
in my hardest
moments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I also enjoy
the feeling that comes
after.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That breath,
broken and loud,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
has turned
into a wave<\/p>\n\n\n\n
at six
in the morning,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
its breezes
travel
through the whole body<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and fill it
with calm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think
I might return
to the same place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I can almost
be sure of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don\u2019t want
to underestimate
those moments,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
and I go on
making peace
with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Part of the cycle
is knowing how to return to them
with different perspectives
and something new.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps unharmed,
lost,
but something emerges from moments
when we can\u2019t see ourselves
anywhere:
separateness
and a body that becomes futile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now I know how to get out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Returning to constants\u2014
they are what trace
a path back
into simplicity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How important
Sunday cleanings are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From time to time I discard
my mental habits,
along with what I have to wash.<\/p>\n\n\n\n