Just Wait

Stasis is eating my body.

I can feel it gnawing at my jaw

which hasn't unclenched in days,

Crunching on my neck

which snaps as I try to roll it loose,

Tearing at the small of my back,

Gnashing at my hip

which sends its shooting pains

into my hamstring, my knee, my calf, my ankle,

my foot as it presses the pedals.

Speeding me along empty streets

on which cyclists wouldn't typically dare leave their tread.

Flying through red lights

signaling no one.

A small rebellion

but at least it moves.

The yoga isn't cutting it anymore.

The jaw clenches,

the hip catches,

the neck crunches.

The breath sticks halfway

down the length of the spine.

And worst of all,

the tears won't come.

To cry right now would feel like a sin.

It seems any sort of release

is strictly verboten.

So the jaw clenches,

the hip catches,

the neck crunches.

I sleep (again)

I eat (again)

I work (again)

I wander the well-worn sidewalks

of the neighborhood

to see if some fresh air will help.

The cycles aren't even that different

than before.

But the jaw clenches, the hip catches,

the neck crunches.

This isn't even the worst that life could throw at me.

Not by a long shot.

Not by a mile.

Not by ten thousand miles.

But the jaw clenches, the hip catches, the neck crunches.

The tears remain caught in

the throat, which won't open

Because to cry would feel like a sin.

Tomorrow

And tomorrow

and tomorrow creeps in,

sidles in.

Nearly unnoticed as

thejawclenchesthehipcatchestheneckcrunches

Pen to paper,

scrawling, clawing through the mind.

The words fall out,

belligerent, discordant, unsorted.

It doesn't have to make any sense.

Something deeper than reason is responding.

Let it.

It's its turn.

Let. It.

The jaw clenches,

the hip catches,

the neck crunches.

Peace, be still,

and know:

the tears will come,

the throat will open,

the breath will fill

all the way to the bottom.

Just wait.

Be still

and know.

And wait.

Just wait.