The whole world paused.

It took a breath

and held it.

It needed time.

Time to grow,

to heal.

It begged us to rest with it,

but we couldn’t stop.

Even when all the signs

told us to pause,

we kept going

 

I’ve always looked for the 

exhilarating spaces.

The most electrifying opportunity.

I feel alive when the world

moves

quickly.

If my fingertips are always brushing

the next

thing,

I will never have time to dwell

on all the things that hurt.

 

I am still trying to go quickly now,

even when the world is telling me to

slow

down.

I am still trying to find

the next thing that will 

make me

happy.

I am ignoring all the signs that

sometimes 

I need to slow down.

 

I’m scared to lose myself.

I find my identity in

constant movement.

In avoiding pain.

In being invigorating,

intoxicating .

If I slow down,

who will I be then?

But I’m losing myself anyway.

Maybe slowing down 

is how I find myself again.

 

So here I am,

breaking, 

breaking, 

broken.

Drowning beneath the waves

of all the things I’m unable to do.

I tell myself

that the greatest art 

comes from the most broken hearts,

but that is only true after the fact.

For now,

everything I do,

every word that I write,

is a little bit broken.