poetry
Pacing \\ Suspended
Pacing
I’ve been
pacing
around my room, finding
pieces
of you
in dusty corners and
drawers
I only use to store
things I don’t know
what to do with
but can’t
throw away
everything feels
bigger
now that my world is
my room
I can feel my walls vibrating
from the
sound of you
laughing at something
I said
I catch your glances
in my dirt-speckled mirrors,
recognize your touch
in my comforter
I wonder
if you’re finding me
in the
dusty parts of your
shrinking world, too
Suspended
Sometimes I feel like I’m floating
nothing is going anywhere
and people sound like they are underwater
there’s no forward, no backward
Just suspension
and then the panic sets in
like when I used to sit on the floor of swimming pools
to see how long I could hold my breath
but then would scramble back to the surface
afraid that I had stayed down there too long
and would run out of air before breaking through
sometimes it feels like
I’ve stayed down there too long
and will always be scrambling to the surface with
not quite enough air
but, then, I’m in your arms:
a towel straight out of the dryer
and I forget that I was ever underwater at all