Journeys

There are mornings I wake up in bed light on my feet

and 

There are days like today; I am an elephant. 

Heavy with joint sore from heaviness. 

The twenty paces to the lieu are slow 

and methodical, lumbering with feet full of weighted thoughts like Palo Santo wood. 

Tired,

The

day will be a another long one and for breakfast,

A variety a medication to help me maintain. 

At dawn, the sun rises and is far off in the distance. I only have so much time to pull myself together and ready myself for today will be a battle. 

Tomorrow 

is

coming. 

Tomorrow is coming. 

It is hard to find sympathy when people see me as a person a decade younger than I am. It’s all a facade I wear inside and out. Make-up for the soul who wishes for a new host. A soul ready to molt like a lobster in need of a larger shell left vulnerable to predators. 

The

question

is

do I cave in and pray for new shoes? Or begrudgingly ache along and age all over again until tomorrow? 

Blessed

be 

me, 

We’re meant to pay a fee for the privilege to be along for this ride, even if a little rusty and bumpy. I guess the suffering may not be beautiful, but survival is.