to get the high
up to the summit
where the elevation buzz
reminds our brain
that “pedal crank” cocaine
is the only drug of choice
and we snort the perfect ride line
when overdosing
on the descent
And then …
the crags and crevices of the conscience
a coagulating and cluttering soul-soup
there I was
teetering on the edge
of existence
injury, insulted intuition, infection, insanity
life snagged by the shards of a cyclist’s tsunami
bolts unleashing the vomit of my “But I’m tough!”
loosening the threading of my innate
Rumbling the rickety thunder of my blunder
diseasing the dynasty of my ego
clenching the jaws of my “But I’m so MTB mindful.”
gripping the guts of the
already broken spokes of my everything
but hell if I let that batshit make me batshit
so I get back on the bike
and I endure the trippiest of trippy trails
my life released from near death’s snare
I suspect that’s how it rolls, folks
case in study
Thanks for reading, and for considering a clicked heart, comment, Pledge and Tip if you so choose. See more of my writing and info about me here: Jessica Amber Barnum
About the Creator
Jessica Amber Barnum
I’m a teacher, writer, biker and owner of Wordplay Wilderness, LLC. To read and write is to be alive. To read and write with my students is to thrive. To read and write while riding a bike means people can tell me to "Book it on a bike." :)
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