Exhaustion hits me like a pendulum:
Appearing, fading, reappearing, fading.
A never-ending cycle.
Melting away with company,
Reappearing with loneliness.
A revolving door,
A Nascar track.

They tell you
“keep going forward.”
“You’re on the right track.”
But they don’t see the left turn
And the next one.
And the next.
The territory I travel is well-worn and familiar,
The grooves on a record
The lanes on a track.
A pattern.

Life is made of patterns.
Life is exhausting.
But it depends on the company we keep, what we do with those things.

photo credit to: http://awelltraveledwoman.tumblr.com/post/88957105726


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