The plastic straps
that smacked my back,
hurt
when I pulled them off
but I knew they’d
certainly, come back.

Dishtowels wrapped
around my knuckles
as the speed
of my fist’s needs
pounds against
a hanging bag.

Heavy weights
pressed up
or pulled in
repetitions
constantly repeating.

Sweat slickened skin
madly moistened
less from the heat
more from the forcing
of my body to move
fast and hard
across the street
past neighbors’ yards,
then jump rope
till I can hardly breath,

and repeat,
and repeat,
because I think
I need that pain
to feel alive
to feel my brain thrive
and sleep well tonight.