some days, every ounce of me is tired. my bones have left me and my voice is depleted from its bravado. some days, i am swollen with life. even my hair hums with hope; the soles of my feet act as Achilles's winged ascension. today, i rest. below a tree or a ceiling drip, drip, dripping with silence, i will rest. tomorrow, after my spine has eased and my mind has expanded, i'll tell you more. tomorrow, i swear, i swear.