Workout

A poem

Photo by Anastase Maragos on Unsplash

To breathe and to listen (if only I could)
against the gabble in my head,
lifting the bar, my muscles grind,
against their own pain, as my heart beats strong.

I am with myself,
no gentle reflection upon my day,
but a whirlwind throwing out pain and fear,
a centrifuge sputtering its load.

I return to the day, madding thoughts drained,
my being a vacuum, empty of fear,
sucking in the stares of others,
their fear and laughter, hiding their hurt.

I am the centre,
with the energy of others, drawn to me,
filling the void with a caring energy,
for a short while, before the voices return.