washing words

my back is wrenched for the weight i carry. at times i forget it. at times i remove it. at times it wears through my thin cotton shirt, an articulate reminder of the placement and number of my ribs. most the time i smile as i move, sometimes doing an impromptu dance or stopping to tickle the unsuspecting person next to me. though today the weight of the should's, could's, shouldn't have's, and want to's all seem a bit to much for my shoulders. they burn from carrying so much in my heart and head, and not finding a peaceful way to release them. i want to turn around and find it all done.

i feel cautiously reckless as I strain to hike up this mountain, densely wooded and slippery with moss and loose gravel. i want to run, but moving so fast would kick my feet out from under me, and possibly move me further from the edge. i don't quite know what is on the other side. i just know it's different from where i've been. the weight and the slow, sometimes counter-productive steps gnaw at my will to keep moving, to travel to a place that i don't even know yet. it would be so much easier to setup camp and stop here, t0 halt and bury my desire to see the new horizon peek at me over the edge. but i know i want to know what i want. what is beyond the ridge? even though at the moment all i see and feel is so viscerally close, i don't want to forever be near-sighted, tasting the dirt i claw through. i want to keep moving, even though it is slower, longer, harder, and asking more that i thought i would need to sacrifice on this side of the mountain.