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[So I'm training to get my PhD to be a psychologist.  I hold a lot for a lot of people and do so much, and sometimes I feel the burnout.  I can almost feel the beginnings of a panic attack sometimes.  It's been getting pretty bad lately, but I genuinely love love love this work.  The process of getting there can be tough though, which is why I need writing and art as an outlet.  Breath.  Just breath.]


It's not that we can't fight
Or forgot how
Not that we're not strong
Holding up our worlds
Theirs, yours, his, hers
With a smile on our face
And when you say "Jump"
We say "Sure, let me pencil that in"
Mostly happy to oblige
Struggling to keep our heads up
And the water reaches our waist
We shout "Stop! Wait!"
We taste salt
Something suddenly feels wrong
Don't understand how
This love, this gift, this work
Became tainted
It's not all our fault
But we cannot pass the blame
It's a choice, it always is
And sometimes
When we lose the will to fight
We gotta figure out what's wrong
Send an SOS
Put our pride away
To point at the lump in our throat
Acknowledge its existence
To know
Things may not be the same
Things will shift
We learn to hold the irreplaceable
Instigate the change
To put on our gloves
To float like a butterfly
To sting like a motherfucking bee
To change our life
Find the will
And when you say "Jump"
We'll already be jumping
To the next stone
One day looking back
At all the stones we've crossed
All the fights we've fought

Created: Feb 25, 2014

Tags: free-verse, poetry

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