come up for air, a heavy sigh,
friday’s end draws near

close the door, turn the tide
head bowed, neck is strained
feel the tension subside
with every burning needle

let it permeate the mind
wash away what was
shoulders drop, inhale
the heart, it rises

white knuckles pull through hair
angst drips to the floor
turn the tide, open the door
look to the heavens

a deep breath, this time no sigh
perhaps when we next meet