Full Moon 

I erase line after line, all my phrases seem vacant. I am trying to fake this. It’s not really working. I am trying to run yet my feet are heavy, they won’t move as fast as I hope they would. My breath is short and unforgiving. My mind refuses the track, it refuses the motion it demands that I stand still at this specific moment and just stop for a moment. Just stop. 

I have a million and five thoughts racing to the front lines, my blood freezes at the notions of some and boils for others. My mind demands that all this stops as well. No motion whatsoever, I must stop every transaction, transition and transformation taking place inside and outside of myself. Nothing will happen now, nothing must. 

Being still used to be so much easier that’s for sure, all it took was closing my eyes and sinking. Now I can’t stop.

I grab onto a tune that slows me down, one that forces the friction I have been avoiding. My scars begin to show again, indifference cannot be faked at this pace. I grab onto the night in hopes of shielding my cowardice, maybe the darkness would help make this pause less shameful; but it doesn’t. I am stripped and stranded because I need to stop and listen, to stop and look at everything. Maybe today is special, and maybe that is why I cannot move. 

Naked and foolish I rub my skin and peel off the beauty, I do not need this here. My hair falls to the ground beneath, and my nails grow long enough to claw through this fractured body. I must stop and see, my eyes water and my mind soars. I cannot move but I can see. 

I can see that my soul is aching, I can see that all this motion is sickening. It is mindless and senseless, it is excruciating and exhausting. 

I just stop, unprotected, frail and aimless. I am in awe of this crash. My mind is unclogged. My blood is cleansed. 

Maybe this is being free. 

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