That one hand holding the rope isn’t really mine, but it could be.
Not just because some people say I have a grip a gorilla would be jealous of but because I haven’t got a choice.
I either hold on and do my best not to let my arm be torn off at the shoulder or lie down and cry.
That is what happens when you make big changes and the universe tests you.
It is what happens when you get caught between a hurricane and a tornado and can’t run for shelter.
You hold on.
Can’t Start Over
Can’t start over and can’t yell at those who disappoint me.
Can’t go back, can only go forwards.
Can’t ignore my anger and frustration. Can acknowledge it and try to let it run its course without letting it run me.
Would like to let go and scream, storm and stomp around but can’t do it.
One minute, one hour, one day at a time.
There is a port to be found.
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