constricted.
I'm on an Alix Olson kick again. She makes me feel expansive and power-full. She blows my mind every damn time I listen to her. So I'm running and I'm listening to Subtle Sister and:
"See, sometimes anger’s subtle, stocked in metaphor
full of finesse and dressed in allure
yes, sometimes anger’s subtle, less rage than sad
leaking slow through spigots you didn’t know you had.
and sometimes it’s just

fuck you.
fuck you.
you see, and to me,

That’s poetry too."
(~ Alix Olson)
And suddenly sobs ripped up from deep, deep inside my chest, tears poured down my face and it hurt to breathe and then I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like it was bound in iron and I dragged at the air and I couldn't see because I was fucking crying while running. And I just kept going (because this is what I do. I.keep.going). I ran through the sobs and eventually they stopped and I kept running and the whole while thinking.
Wow. Where the hell did that come from.
But I know.
...I know.
Every damn day.
Constricted.
That is how I feel.
And so. I run.
~K