Everyone looses their shit over fall:
the colors,
the sweaters,
and pumpkin spice, oh my!
But I can’t stand the darkness creeping in
during the expanding night,
with the chill in the air
that will turn to snow in a few weeks time…

or maybe not –

’cause the Earth is boiling,
both literally and metaphorically –

I feel trapped,
in an agonizing, demented reality.
I’m paralyzed and can only move my toes.
I keep twitching them, hoping,
to feel the rest of my feet again.

In my comma I dream
about the ocean and the sun,
the smell of salt perfuming my skin.
I think about the club
and the hours I spent in movement,
a freedom of self I hadn’t experienced before.
I day dream about that church in Austria,
or the first morning in England
and the comfort of warm toast,
and I feel like those are moments of a past
that has long since ended.
And maybe I’ll never know again,

how it feels to move and discover,
something beautiful.


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