The Sweet Spot

Since I've been small,

I've had this ball

A baseball to be exact.

It's old and worn

The Stitching is torn

'Newness' it definitely lacks.

I've thrown this ball

Against many a wall

In frustration and release of stress.

It calms me down

It keeps me from breaking down

It centers me - I guess

When I try to speak

My breath gets weak

Actually a word I can't utter.

To speak is a struggle

And sometimes I fumble

Simply put....I Stutter.

I've had speech teachers, pathologists, tutors and aides

Worn devices, had evaluations yet NEVER let it affect my grades.

My chest hurts so badly by the end of the day,

I can hardly take another breath and haven't a word left to say.

But baseball comes easy; I don't even have to think

Just pick up that ball and my struggles just shrink.

I don't hear a sound, I just exhale and throw

No strategies to execute, it's just what I know.

So at the end of the day, I NEED that ball - it's the very air that I need to exist.

It's my center, my 'must-have', my compass, my 'can't live without'......I think you get the gist.