Sentinel

if not here, then where?

Lately, I’ve been having a hard time reeling in my mind. Ironic for a yoga instructor. For someone who claims to know how. I don’t, even if I try. And sometimes, I manage to help others while mine’s slip-slip-slipping away from me.

I keep thinking I’ll do better.

I keep thinking if only I got my foot in. Only just the one. Don’t gotta be the left or the right. I trip on both, regardless. Last 24 hours, I fell on my face twice. My hands got good at bracing after a quarter of a century tumbling around on this planet. But I never seem to get much further than the middle toe. Maybe if I’d learned to bend in certain ways, the wind would have a harder time carrying me.

I’m going tonight, but I ain’t gone yet.

You know what I like? I like it when people hold your nostrils open for you, but don’t show you how to breathe. I’m sorry. My eyes get all foggy when I try to watch. I cry more than is good for me. I whimper, and wish I were much stronger than willow reed.

I’m only just here. Listening to the chair that you left squeal.

Earlier, I made people squeaky. Sometimes, people agree to talk really really fast if you promise to care for them. I didn’t, but they got squeaky anyway. Serves me right. I’ve been meaning to come around for a while…