The Breaking Point

We all get there,


whether on our feet,

our knees,

our backs,

or tumbling wildly.

There is no emissary.

We arrive

with cries

and tears,

or even with a smile,

with one eye twitching

in the corner,

just a little bit.


Nevermind the reason;

some say the journey

is better than the destination,

but I think it’s funny,

that they never really enjoy

the place they are

while they are there.


Take me, for instance;

it’s been a long road

and I have been bruised

and battered.

I have been lost

and mislead,

chased and tempted,

driven and sometimes

tumbling wildly;

and here I am,

finally arrived at my breaking point.

I think I’ll stay here for a while.


I think I will linger.

Far too many people

just blow right past it,

never taking the time

to understand the subtle mix

of certainty and confusion,

the mingling of bile and anticipation.

I know that when I step

one step beyond the threshold,

there’s no coming back.


I might even be a different person.

Different circumstance

and all the little nuances

that make a man

who broke himself

whole again.

What if I pick up the pieces

and I’m missing some?

Or some aren’t mine?


So, I’ll linger here;

loitering in amazement

that I’ve reached this line

that borders the unknown.

I can’t bring you across with me,

but one day you’ll reach yours.

Don’t hurry past it;

stay and enjoy it

and if you stick around long enough,

you’ll see

that it’s a crossroads.


HG – 2017

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