PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I like to think I walk in a straight line. Correction: I do not ever walk in a straight line, I am not straight enough to walk in a straight line, and I love to lie to myself. It’s sort of become a habit of mine. When I was little (honestly, not as little as I would tell people) I loved to lie to myself about magic, though I liked to think I was really innocent enough to believe it. Now I love to lie to myself about what I will mean to the world. A few months ago I loved to lie to myself about what you meant to me. What could happen. What if. What if. What if. Never. I wish I hadn’t kept all the nevers for that long when they never existed in the first place. I never walk in a straight line and every day I walk in countless crooked lines heading for you.

Most of the things I think I overthink. Correction: I overthink the things that matter too much to my crooked-walking heart. I shiver when you drop a heavy sentence. When you surprise me I run back alone and close my eyes. I hold my breath and touch you. After looking at you like that I don’t know if I can do this with anyone else. But I will try to ride the rebound rope back up when you open your eyes and leave me.

I only move a fraction of the atoms I touch. Correction: I swim through the atmosphere moving so many atoms and still I don’t leave a dent. There are so many more on either side of me that will never touch my skin, never meet the atoms that make me. So I move sunlight atoms, dust and breath and lemonade. I move feathers but never pillows, wisps but never smoke. I move peanut butter atoms, gift wrapping and olive oil and lavender soap. And now I move Hannah atoms, soft and skin and loneliness and together. With pure movements I make some of your memories. If I only move a fraction of the atoms I touch, I’m glad some of them are yours.