Sunday, December 02, 2012

The Pitch

I can laugh about it now.

The need to be
brighter,
better,
and
burn more beautifully than the rest,
can be a terrible burden.

What is worse is when we
want someone to worship our every word.

But this time
they will stand there-
bored,
ready for the next pitch,
and this will hurt.

Like sticks
like stones
your bones will
break 
without words.

A brush off
worse than any woman could inflict.

It will hurt
not to be
the brightest,
the best,
or
to not burn at all.

For a moment
I allow myself to feel broken.

Then with a deep breath, I remember the Budha's
hand in
Abhaya Mudra.

Do not fear, it is not real. 

Exhale and
Remember it is all just a game-
some played
with sticks, bats, crutches
some requiring stones, marbles, balls.

There will be more pitches.

I can laugh about it now,
too bad it only hurts when
I laugh.

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