Creating habits

I’m standing on this road again.

I’ve been here before.

I’ve walked the pockmarked pavement.

I’ve crawled along the burning cement.

The scars all remain of the past attempts down the lonely road.

No one walks with me here.

Alone again with no turns.

Straight and

Narrow.

The gradual incline burns my lungs as

Step

by

Step

We struggle.

Along with all of the different versions of me.

We continue on again.

We start ahead this time.

We skipped a few miles already traversed.

We begin again on the road

Towards something.

Something we’ve wanted.

Something we’ve needed.

This is not the easy road.

The Notes

The notes were from a good night. An entire pile of memories from an amazing summer. A summer that ended so abruptly. The notes and pieces of flower decorations became the memories of the disaster. They now carried with them thoughts of thrashing, screaming, and glass shattering. They now represent what had been lost. What I once had. They remind me of the betrayal. They remind me of the people who said they would be there forever. But their idea of forever stopped when the first thin went wrong. The notes remind me of friends who weren’t friends and warm summer nights.

I try to focus on the good now.

©C. O’Connor