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Accounting for Everything: Ressurected?
Fell down between the crack between this last year and the new one. I finally came to with a bruise on my hip and swollen eyes.
Reaching the finish line, his face came into focus. Finally, after years of blurred features.
I sat up, realized I hadn't fallen that far. I pulled myself up by my arms in either side of the fault. Rain drops splashing on my face. It was easy without someone hanging on to me.
I had won the fucking race. I had won it and there he was. The prize. The wreath of flowers to adorn my neck. They looked like funeral flowers and I suddenly felt mournful for the race. The twists, the turns. The wipeouts in training. I heard the nails in my coffin. One. Two. Three.
Sitting now on the edge, my feet dangling into the fissure, resting. The ground shaking, the crack closing. I yanked my heavy legs out one by one. I lost my right shoe.
Now? Free. Not loved, but not alone. Rather walk singular then with a prize around my neck, weighing me down. Rather have someone ride beside me. Where I can see them.
Free. Reborn?
Ressurected.
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