ProCrasstheNation

“Continual Morning”

I woke up one day,

and discovered a long road before me.

It is like many long roads I have seen in the past,

but different, in proximity and context.

It is I road I must travel,

but don’t want to.

Required to.

I toe the edge with trepidation.

Waves of ineffable energy wash over me.

Numb.

Onward slightly.

Like new clothing it is restrictive, tight, cornered, and unwrinkled.

Each step is an endurance.

It is not a trip of ease.

Waves are amplified as a naked mind articulates unavoidable truth.

Gone.

Not accessible.

Forlorn breathe.

Concrete sadness attached to the heaviest gravity possible.

Growing in all directions.

Folding back in on itself.

This morning seems to last longer than anticipated.

Ever present.

Comfort is now understood as a luxury.

Untenable and fleeting.

Sorrow builds momentum and cascades over all points of light,

dripping off dead-endages appendages.

Confronted by the truth of the road, that it will someday be an end, and because of its context and proximity, provide pause to other weary travelers.

Onward still.