Momentum

No, sweetheart, I don’t need rest.
I don’t need to stop and take a vacation.
I don’t need anything that will stall
The forward momentum
That keeps me alive
And in the moment,
And away from the empty space
In my head where all the demons
Wait for their feast of strips ripped from my soul
In the dark alcoves
I cannot shut completely.

I cannot go there
Or lay my weary burdens
On the ground filled
With pits of my despair,
Or sit comfortably on the
Cushions of emotions
That drown me and deny me air.
Constant motion makes me
A moving target
My predatory mind
Cannot hit.

Staying mobile in the moment
Keeps me away from the edges
Of my own collection of blades.

Life is perpetual motion
That pumps air into my unthinking lungs,
Keeps my heart going out of need,
Makes my eyes sharp and ensures
That my hands produce things
Instead of reduce me
To a poisoned mass of womanflesh
Vomiting tainted blood on the floor.

I do need to keep on going,
Keep on staying alive
Like the sleek sharks
Need to keep swimming
To keep breathing.
Rest is not for me. Not yet.
Not now. Not when other lives
Need mine to continue.

Think of it this way:
Death is the ultimate vacation,
And the last inevitable getaway.

I’ll get there soon enough
If I keep my momentum up.