Half-asleep, half-awake I crawl out of bed. My jaw is tense though my heart is whole. I haven’t slept much these days. Not because my thoughts keep me awake. Not because I had too much caffeine. Not because my baby cries vigorously, but because I am too excited, alive, and happy to rest.
Knowing exhaustion will eventually take its toll on me, I close my eyes and I push harder to reach that horizon. The promise of a recovery.
A horizon exists only because you can’t reach it, ever. A horizon is unattainable. Just like true happiness, or that’s what it looks like on a Tuesday morning, pre-coffee. Or its temporary substitute, tea.
It’s funny how Life answers your questions in a perverse and humorous way, always prompt, right on time, before the year ends.
Leaks.
Leaky breasts, full of electricity, ready to pour that milk into a human’s mouth.
Leaky pipes, filling my kitchen floor with cold water I’ll step on, wearing socks.