= Tension =

a poem

He felt knots beneath his skin
Twisted lumps of agitation,
frustration,
defeat,
compromise,
and yesterday’s heavy late-night dinner.
Formed into masses
crammed into areas
he saved for stretching room.

They poked into his sides,
and pulled at his skin.
Made it uncomfortable to walk,
uneasy to sit,
and impossible to sleep.
Omnipresent physical manifestations of the things
left undone.

He didn’t seek help,
or quick release.

It was a battle for space,
a war of resources.
His body gave way to the pressure of mind,
and the mind retorted to the body.

His only option was to wait
for the signal
and snap
into form.