11.21.18
I’m in a mood, I say.
But this underlying chaos rises
too close every time I speak.
I’m just tired, I think.
Clouds of puffy smoke dance
inside of me, leaning against the Exit.
I spot my shadow. She is impatient.
She is a warrior, ready for this stagnancy
to pass. Slow and steady, I tell her.
The wind slides my hair from my shoulders. She is still and eager.
The smoke feels heavier. I look to her for guidance. She points at me.
The fire, she reminds me, was burnt out; so now you can breathe.
I place a few fingers on my throat. She leaves.
I consider counting. I consider cussing. I do that instead.
I forget the smoke. I remember the fire. Breathe, she whispers, wherever she is now.
When there is fire, there is also air. Darkness holds hands with the light. All of these things coexist, so I am told.
I felt like running, but now I am at peace with the sight of this water rolling along.
Thank you, I say.
I jump in the water. Its waves carry me far.
I am my shadow, I yell as the water flings me on the grass.
Life goes on as I spin in circles.
Life goes on as I learn to sing.
I become my shadow. She is me.
Life goes on.
