Lies Like These
Stuck in space between remembering and forgetting, I run. Propelled by unfamiliar resilience, I eat the wind until senses tell lies like these feet hurt so much I’d be better off without them or these eyes blur so much I’ll never trust again. Stuck in space between knowing something’s happening and that it’s ending, I stop. Propelled by unfamiliar confidence, I champion the lies. I fall to the ground, an unbalanced force balanced by blades of grass. I know these two things are simultaneously true: I am an object spinning out of control, and I am an object at rest.