It starts in the calm and quiet of solitary fields.

You’ve been out of the game for a bit but it feels good to be back.

Your feet move quicker,

Your heart beats faster,

You feel excited.

You feel hopeful.

You’re ready.


You’re happy at first.

There’s a few setbacks to start off:

A tweak here, a strain there.

But it’s barely begun.

There’s no need to worry.


It’s going ok.

But your timing is off,

so your demeanor is muted.

You don’t want to talk about it.

But something doesn’t feel right.

You wonder if you want to be here.

The thought lingers.


The days are routine.

Sometimes there’s even fun and laughs,

between the swings and misses.

The game is the same,

but you’ve realized that you’re different.


The heavy air stifles you.

The grass isn’t wet.

The game doesn’t excite you.

The doubts consume you.


You’re tired.

You can’t muster up the enthusiasm

to make it all better.

You don’t like the game anymore,

and you don’t really like yourself either.

Neither of you is good for the other.

The weight of your incompetence is taking its toll.


It’s time to call it quits.

It could be a bad year.

But your heart knows it’s over


You didn’t come through,

when it mattered most.

You didn’t want it to end this way.

But you also don’t care.


You lost a piece of yourself now that you’ve walked away.

It’s the right thing to do.

It’s finally over.


Emptiness consumes you.


Contentment fills you.


Emptiness returns.


You still miss it.

You still don’t want to go back.

By Madonna Hernandez