Not a Hurricane, just a Cyclone

I'm not drowning in water, but words.

A feeling comparable to what I imagine standing under a waterfall feels like.

The longer you stand there, the more painful and heavy it gets.

But so many other people long to be there, so you continue your stand.

The water feels heavier and heavier and it's pummeling your skin, but you continue your silent vigil.

You never dreamed of this, but yet, here you are.

Stuck in a cyclone of cortisol.

Where weekends feel like the eye of a hurricane, perpetually too short.

It should feel impossible to feel so tired at this age.

So focus on the mundane.

Just breathe.

In.

Hold.

Out.

In.

Hold.

Out.

And find the joy in the little things.