"The Enemy You Know"
My arms are on fire, but I don’t care. I won’t stop until the work is done. I’m on my last set, and all I have to do is keep my mind’s eye on the prize. “Prizes!” He spits. “You had prizes and you treated them all like they meant nothing.” I slowly lift myself up, and push through the searing heat surging through my back and arms. This kind of pain I welcome. I understand it, take solace in it, and find resolve in it most days.
My problems lies outside this grind. When I’m at work, out to eat, and most of all in the quiet moments, especially during sleep. Some demons never let up, and mine are coming at me from every angle these days. “Stop complaining and work, boy!” He shouts. “Thought you had work to do, people to shut up? All I’m hearing is whining. Now, give me five more!” My body’s trembling, my grip is slipping, but it’s too soon. I can’t quit yet. I have to finish. “Come on!” My knees and hands hit the sand before my brain can register what’s happened. Damn.
His laughter gets louder as I climb to my feet dusting myself off. “Sad,” he says. “So. sad.” Model: @matthewesimmons