is an ocean.
a rash between your shoulder blades that just isn’t going away.
feels like coming to
and remembering you’re alone when you thought a friend was sitting next to you.
like waking up from a pleasant dream
and trying fruitlessly to fall back asleep.
says, “I’m good. How are you?”
the guilt weighed in a bedroom full of possessions.
crawls up my throat, curls inside my skull.
greeting me after sunset.
it’s like losing your way
in a city where you can’t speak the language.
nestles beside my feet; my pet dog.
finds me even when
I’m hiding in