Behind closed doors,
I do my ugly dance.
Because somehow all the emotion in my soul
and the fire in my bones
don’t settle well un-expressed.
I punch,
I kick,
I race.
I pound,
I weep and brake.
I scream
I yell and shake.
I let myself feel every ounce of pain,
every bit of grief.
I feel into it all.
And when there’s nothing more to feel,
I let go as I…
Transition into the rhythm of hope.
I begin to put on a new song.
I do my ugly dance,
because its part of the story.
Not the end of it.