Softball

Callouses, blisters, exhaustion,

Gloves, bats, balls,

Cheering, screaming, crying, laughing.

I miss the dirt under my cleats,

and the smell of sweat in my nose.

The way a homerun feels.

The way strinking someone out feels.

If I miss this sport so much,

then explain to me why I'm still not playing.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741