The contents of my yoga mat:
1 battered body
1 tormented mind
Finally forced to acknowledge each others’ presence.
Struggling to keep the pace
I confront my body’s limitations.
In asanas of repose
Trauma seeps through the cracks of my resolve to be mindful.
PTSD thrives on avoidance
But in this room there is
Nowhere to hide
Nothing to do but embrace the struggle.
And when the work is done
I step off my mat
And return to the world a little more whole.
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