like the leaves

I slip into the ether

the least myself I’ve ever been.

Older & hollower & shaking like the leaves.

When did fear become so radiant?

When did it become so strong?

The sighs don’t heal the way they used to.

Neither does the hot water.

Do I just sink then?

Is this it?

I can’t remember how to find it,

how to fish it out of my sternum & hand it to someone

& say “see, this is what I meant,

what it means,

to me.”

& I can no longer recall the essence of having it received,

cradled,

held tenderly to the chest & then deeply inhaled,

the way a mother, father — anyone —

does to the infant head,

the crown

& I was the fool all along, 

doing my jig to make you laugh.

But I can’t find the humor anymore. 

My laughter swallowed up in all the red blood cells,

in all the half-recited prayers,

in all the whispers I tried to tune out.

I’m drowning in life & I cannot escape.

& no matter, we’re locked in the cage anyway.

There’s no greener grass, just a release. 

I don’t want to give up.

I don’t want to leave.

But I don’t know how to continue on not being me.