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In this hallowed haven,

dazed or defiant,

limbs scrunched or stretched for miles,

I can take up all the room.

Scream past safe decibels and watch sound waves distort air

that I inhale to exhale in silence.

Play music at volcanic erupting volume and not disturb the neighbors.

Don’t nobody else live around here.

This place of purge before purity emerges on sage smudged holy ground.

The ‘here’ I enter before the ‘there’ I retreat,

where it all comes together as a nexus of calm with coolness past cares.

Nothing tired.

Nothing tortured.

Erratic patterns finding melody.

Confusion subsides to oneness.

And all is balance.

All is center.

Interference meets rhythm.

Resonance.

Heavy burdens fall to chasms of oblivion.

No other peace exists so pleasing yet powerful.

Who gives a damn about packaging, décor, or all other peripherals

when in possession of unconditional acceptance.

The relief that comes from holding back nothing.

No eyes attached to unwelcome advances will follow

for a private location by invitation only.

I keep my circle small—minuscule really.

Forever warm/natural lighting/clothing optional/secluded beach access/

kettle boiling/book nooks aplenty/barefoot elegance

breathing in time with ocean waves.

I fire my insecurities,

my failures,

and my rage.

Question choices, development, cognition, and drive.

Splintering self into a million shards deemed catastrophic

and a mess of my own making.

Profound realization the sweeter through unfettered release.

Sweetgrass surges.

Cleanses me all.

Catharsis life-changing enough to write home about…

but I’m already here.

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