Mark: BOLD

Damien: Italics

Tired of this mind fight

I want to get this mind right

Before I self-destruct

Wake up every single day

My own thoughts already in my way

It always seems so fucked

Before I get myself up

I need to get myself pumped

Take a deep breath and try

Time for the daily grind

I only hope that I can find

It in me not to cry

I might get emotional

I hate that my mind is full

Of all sorts of junk

It’s hard for me you see

The grind is real for me

Want to be out of this funk

Time for me to grind

It’s time for me to to find

A way to rise up and fight

So, instead of this B.S.

Need to shut down this mess

And get my mind right

I’m tired of the fight in my mind

As I write I go blind, trying to find

The reasons why it won’t stop

Awake at all hours thinking

Or standing in the shower sinking

This season of mine…it won’t swap

For some free time to free my mind

So I see rhymes just flee each line

As I forget to jot my racing thoughts

Tossed and turned up in this bed

Or water churning o’er my head

I cannot get uncaught, these crazy plots

Twist on and on down a rabbit hole

Staying up late is a new habit so

I embrace it, taste it, and take it

Walking these vacant spaces

Wandering my sacred traces

Mind races, faced it, I’m naked

Wishing I had someone to share

Wishing I had someone who cared

I’m aware I chose this life, so fuck it

My mind is going to do what it does

I have to accept all of this because

A busy mind exposes me as reluctant

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PETALS PART

In need of a shoulder to cry on,

when too much feels like a heavy burden.

Given a second chance—

how did we ever deserve this opportunity.

Sorrows flood the gates of the soul,

penetrating through thoughts of recovery.

.

Times get tough but we are still here,

friends and family is all we have.

In an era full of uncertainty and lies—

absolutely nowhere to turn.

Whispered cries is all that is heard,

a change is coming with the new wind.

.

A tantalizing breeze that calms the mind,

never taken for granted.

When we have nowhere to go—

family is there to help you the most.

Broken and lonely is all that we are,

a helpful reminder from a loved one is near.

.

Crying to the world but only silence is heard,

feeling diminished like an insect on the ground.

Cowardly people hurt and run away—

finding those crucial footsteps next.

Losing hope and vitality,

but never the kindness within your heart.

.

Family is everything always,

don’t loose sight of that fact.

Hope and faith rides the wave of love—

compassionate divinity all for you.

Turning despair into joyful moments,

only loved ones can turn the light.

.

A stage full of emotions,

hours and days go by.

Never looking back again—

healing and growth is on the cusp.

All we can do is try our very best,

looking unto the future of our being.

©

MARK’S PART

We face hardship from the first moment

As we grow, we learn to trust

And we learn to be wary

People come into

And out of our lives

From the first breath we take

.

There are people

Who are only there when times are good

You find out

Who your true friends are

When the bottom drops out

These are the ones who remain

.

In moments of joy

In moments of pain

Who can we trust

Who will remain

Only those who are true

They’ll see us through the rain

.

As I’ve grown older

Many friends have drifted

But the hardships

Never fade

Then there are moments that come

That give me hope

.

What I have learned

A friendship that’s true

Can grow out of nothing

And when hardships

Inevitably hit

They will remain for you

.

Whether in real life

Or through the magic of an app

It’s always refreshing

When even just one shows up

And you know

That friend will never leave

©

Mark’s Note: It’s been such a pleasure getting to collaborate with such a wonderful and talented writer and person. We hope you love reading it as much as we loved writing it. Through the last couple of weeks, our friendship has formed, and this piece come out of our conversations about how to get through the difficult times with the help of friends. Enjoy!

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sorrowful hours into the midnight skies

Another morning where I wake up to a bed that's holding me hostage.

blissful tears that drench her sheets

My body tells me to move but my head pins me there, helpless.

a playground of emotions trample on

The world is calling, but I cannot hear for all the noise in my brain

the ground so cold as her heart’s passions

I do not want to deal today. No one can make me. I'm tuning the outside noise out.

darkness envelops all kinds of humanity

Trapped in this prison. I only want to scream

being dragged down into another realm

The words are there but no sound can be heard

stuck in a rut of emotional distress

Life is kicking me around like a crushed up tin can

giving herself a chance of freedom

The bruises are there to prove it, only they're not shown on the outside, only in

flailing around to try and grasp the unknown

The world wants me to suppress it, so that's what I try

contentment feels so distantly afar

Keeping it in hurts. Eventually the pain begins to show outwardly

gentry caressing the thought of levity

It's simply too much to hold inside

turning around and screaming at her own

The years of doing so proves exhausting to the point of breaking

a face can be seen in the distance

Frustrated, beaten beyond repair, no help in sight

hazy but seeing it through a blurred mirror

It is just me inside my head, that's where the screams hide

her eyes flinch and looks down at her feet

Crying out for help, for decades it has been fruitless

ashamed of the way she has been living

This game of dominoes seems neverending

emotional day she can’t get past

Surely it has to someday…right?

screeches for help but silence is heard

Until then, it feels like I am dying a little more while it plays out

looking around but to no avail

My words therefore spill out onto this page

emotionless numbing toes and fingertips

They've nowhere else to go to ease all the pain

walking towards her saddened eyes

The hurt still hurts, inside still screams

the face moves but only slightly

My fake happy face has given me lines that make me look older than I am

she looks a dozen times but it’s gone

One day, you, the world may finally see

that sad face is none other—but her own

What being trapped in this prison has done to me

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I stretched on the mats in the corner, rolling my shoulders, feeling the familiar pull on muscles that were still strong, but aged slightly. Then, the treadmill. Thirty minutes at a steady pace, the belt humming beneath me, sweat gathering at my hairline and sliding down my temples and dampening my shirt. When the timer beeped, I slowed to a walk, chest heaving, endorphins bussing pleasantly in my warmed up limbs. I began to wipe the panel, the handrails, and the cup holder. Habit. Respect for the space that doesn’t ask anything of me.

I reached for my water bottle, twisted the cap, and that was when she appeared.

She moved through the doorway like she’d rehearsed it– like something out of a movie– long hair pulled into a high pony that swayed against her exposed shoulders. Black leggings clung to every curve and a cropped tank the colour of sun-heated asphalt stretched tight across her chest. Airpods in. She scanned the room as she walked in, and her gaze inexplicably landed on me and stayed.

I don’t know how it happened. If it was the sudden stop of motion, or the way her eyes narrowed– amused at my blatant attention– but the bottle slipped from my fingers. The cap was already loosened. Cold water arced out, splashing across the rubber floor in a wide, shining puddle that spread between us like an accidental moat.

My face was red hot with embarrassment, and I immediately scanned the room for something to mop up my mess. I found a paper towel dispenser and grabbed some… okay, a lot. I crouched down to start wiping some of it up, but the supply was exhausted quickly. The last thing I wanted to do was get up and get more, considering I could still feel her eyes on me. But to my surprise, a handful was handed to me before I could move. She was close– no personal space, complete disregard of boundaries– close.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled, reaching up to grab the stack she held. I felt the soft graze of her hand against mine as she handed it to me, and I barely stopped myself from stumbling again to clean up the rest.

I stood, careful not to stare at the ample breasts that were almost spilling out of her top, but when I looked into her face, I could tell she knew what thoughts flickered through my head.

‘Looks like you need a cooldown,’ she said, voice low and teasing. Her smile wasn’t the polite one of a stranger. It was slow. Knowing. The kind that starts at one coy corner of the mouth and promises trouble. Up close like that, I could smell vanilla and something sharper– citrusy, maybe– that made my heart rate accelerate. Her eyes were hazel shot through with green, and they didn’t leave mine.

‘You always this graceful?’ she asked.

‘Only when beautiful women walk in,’ I answered, remembering that I did, in fact, know how to speak to women.

Her smile widened, pleased.

‘I’m Amelia,’ she said, tilting her head toward the free weights. ‘I was going to start with squats. But…’ She let the sentence hang, eyes flicking to the patches of sweat on my shirt, where it clung just a little tighter to my skin. Then lower, unapologetic. ‘I could use a spotter. That is, if you’re not in a rush to leave.’

Fuck.

‘I’ve got time,’ I said, aiming for nonchalance and knowing I’d missed entirely when her smile shifted into something I would consider predatory.

She turned and walked to the squat rack in the far corner– the one half-hidden by a pillar to provide a sense of privacy not afforded anywhere else in the gym. And I followed, pulse thudding in my ears.

She went first, loading the bar with her weight, stepping under it, hands gripping just outside her shoulders. I moved behind her, close enough to do my “job” of spotting her, close enough to feel heat coming off her skin. I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful curves of her body as she moved– perfect form, hips driving back, thighs flexing. On the ascent, her ponytail brushed my chest.

When she was done with the first set, she racked it and looked at my reflection in the mirror in front of us.

‘Did you like what you were spotting?’ she asked, bending to pick up her water and take a few healthy sips.

I saved myself from spluttering my response by mumbling something instead.

‘Could you say that a little louder, please?’

My face heated. She’d had me on the ropes since she walked in, and she knew it.

‘Yes,’ I replied, sheepishly.

Her smile was sexy. And evil in equal measure. ‘Your turn.’

I added a little more weight and stepped under. As I descended, her hands hovered at my waist– not quite touching– guiding me without pressure. When I drove up, her palms full settled on my hips, thumbs pressing lightly through the fabric of my shorts. A silent claim. When I was done I turned to her, voice low even though the music pumped loudly in the space. ‘I hope you know what game you’re playing. Cos I like to win.’

She patted my ass playfully as she stepped past me to start her next set.

‘If I have my way,’ she said over her shoulder, winking for good measure. ‘We’ll both feel like winners when we leave here.’

We traded sets and increasingly suggestive comments, both the weight and the heat creeping up, the space between us shrinking with each set. By the fourth round, the gym had filled slightly– two guys on ellipticals, a group of women walking into the pilates studio– but no one glanced our way. The corner felt like its own little world.

On her heaviest set she paused at the bottom, thighs parallel, breath steady. I stood behind her, hands ready. She looked back over her shoulder.

‘Closer,’ she murmured.

I smiled slowly, stepping forward until my hips brushed hers, until I could feel the tremor of her muscles as she held the squat. My hands settled on her hips and my cock, which had slowly been filling hardened as she came up, her full ass sliding against me as she stood. She pressed back as she wreaked the bar with a metallic clang.

Neither of us moved. Just stared at each other in the mirror across from us. My hands splayed, large and possessive at her hips.

Her breathing was deeper now, matching mine. She turned, and my hands slid across her damp skin. She looked up at me, back against the rack, eyes searching my face.

‘You’re shaking,’ she said softly.

‘So are you.’

She laughed once, quiet, leaning her head back against the rack, exposing the pale column of her throat. Instinctively, I reached up and placed my hand there, fingers curling, adding the slightest pressure. Her breathing sharpened, a quick exhale leaving her. Her hands found the hem of my shirt, slipping underneath, palms gliding over the sweat damp skin of my back.

The first kiss was tentative– searching– as I pressed my lips to hers. The second wasn’t. It was hungry. I tasted her like I was starving.

We broke long enough for her to glance around– the gym was still mostly empty, the nearest person facing their own reflection at the other end of the space– before she tugged me toward the single occupancy changing room at the end of the hall.

The door locked behind us with a soft click.

Inside it was dim, just the light above the mirror. A bench, a sink, a stack of towels on the single shelf. She pushed me gently until my back met the cool tile wall, then kissed me again, harder. Her hips pressed forward, and I could feel the heat of her through the thin layers of fabric separating me from her pussy.

My hands moved down her side, thumbs tracing the curve under her sports bra, a tattoo peaking from between her tits. She arched into the touch, reaching between us to tug my shorts down a fraction, enough to feel my skin against hers.

I kissed her hard, bruisingly. And suddenly, the fabric between us was too much. I needed to feel her. I peeled her leggings down just enough, fingers sliding over slick skin. She gasped into my mouth– needy and wild– when my fingers found her, already soaked, circling her clit slowly until her knees buckled.

Her hand had pushed my shorts to my thighs, and had wrapped around me, timing her pumps with my fingers against her. The other was clinging to my clothes, as though she was afraid I’d leave her.

As if I could.

In a quick move, I changed our positions, pressing her front against the wall. I shoved her leggings down even further, spat on my hand and wrapped it around myself, giving a few wet strokes.

I looked at her. Thighs glistening, hands splayed against the white tiles like she was searching for something to anchor her.

‘You are fucking perfect,’ I whispered, awed.

‘Then mess me up a little,’ she whimpered. And I didn’t need to be told twice.

I pushed against her, guiding my cock into her in one smooth motion. We both groaned at the contact– hot, tight.

Perfect.

I buried my face in her neck, breathing her in– sweat and vanilla and sex.

We stayed locked together afterward– collapsed on the bench, still inside her– after she’d tightened around me and dragged me over the edge with her.

Finally, she murmured, ‘Best workout I’ve had in months.’

I smiled against her shoulder. ‘Same.’

She turned her head and kissed me once more– lazy and satisfied. Then reached for a towel to clean us both up with surprising tenderness. When we finally slipped back into the gym proper, hair and clothes righted, the sun was fully up outside, and the later morning crowd had begun to arrive.

We gathered our stuff and headed towards the exit. She stopped, citing a shower in the larger bathrooms, whereas I was heading home, due to start working from home in half an hour.

‘Same time next week?’ she asked. ‘For the workout, of course.’

‘Of course,’ I said, smiling widely. ‘I take my job spotting you very seriously.’

As he stepped outside, a smile spread across his face as he already was counting the days until he saw her again.