The End of Fight or Flight

We have been running,

to and from what-

God only knows.

We can slow down now,

cracked open ribs

bearing what pieces we have left.

Safety feels foreign,

we snarl at any threat.

Protective of what is now ours,

we make promises and plans.

When the dust settles,

and our pulses slow down,

meet me under our stars,

in this new season

of our sleepy beach town.