lack of

her storm

i've lost all sense of the meaning of my first name.
not in the way where you call me my mother's little love,
but deeper within where you can see me in every scratch mark, in every paint stain on the carpet.
how my bed doesn't even feel the same after i forgot what real warmth feels like.
i wanted to be encased by soft, fluffy feathers, but the jacket i wear is made out of room temperature cotton.
i want to feel safe.
the rolling stairs traveling through the waves of my mind have lost me.
i'm no longer sitting on the rug of the 2nd floor apartment,
i'm drowning and waving as the water tightens it hold.
i've bought compression socks, but at this point the sensation is just straight suffocation.
the senses that were there twist in nonsensical rambles.
everyday blurs together as if i've never shut my eyes,
the longest road i have so far walked upon.
i can see the sun set into tomorrow in the distance,
but by the time i thought i was there, the moon showed me all the more pavement.
the moon showed me everything else i had to comprehend,
yet it showed me how to dance.
i know that after walking for so long, and having the storm rage on, that there'll be the sun still waiting for me.
i'll feel the beams raining down on my skin.
but for now i learn to dance in the rain.
i learn to say my name as if it truly means something.

April 11th, 2020