over and over again
the words trip over themselves
spilling from my mouth, before my brain formulates a plan
my breath in rapid gasps, the tears streaming little rivers down my freckled face
my brain running laps, tripping over itself
like a hamster in a wheel

my hamster squeaks on
I am in a maze
hundreds of straight paths stretching as far and wide in all angles that I can fathom
all of them, none of them the right path
all of them, none of them the way out
No matter what way I turn, I'm right and wrong at the same time
running endlessly as years pass,
first one, turn here, before you know it three more and another turn
four more with twists and turns that never stop

Finally, the words come
the clouds part, the maze stops, a clearing, an opening
I throw myself to the exit, straining, stretching, sobbing
I look, I see tears, not my tears
little rivers in the eyes of my love, anger melting into love
the hamster stops his rotation

breath slowing and organized
slow and deep like it should be
words in natural procession
emotions strong beneath the surface
connection at last

my record is no longer broken . .