Nicole Johnson

My brain

Still replaying that  conversation 

Same words, different tone. 

Like I could’ve changed it. 

Waking before the sun rises 

Out of habit, not purpose.

Keys in my hand, engine quiet.

And I don’t know what for. 

Now I sit in the quiet 

I let it circle my head 

Every version gets loud, 

But nothing gets said. 

Morning still comes 

Like nothing has changed.

But there’s no place

That expects me.

No door to walk through

No voice saying my name

Morning still comes

But it doesn’t want me.

I tried to picture the rhythm

How it all used to move.

The back and forth, the timing. 

It was like I still had something to prove. 

 But it slips when I try to reach for it. 

Like it’s already gone 

And I’m left with the outline

Of where I belonged. 

And it sits in my chest

Like it’s part of my breath

Something just out of reach

I can’t name it yet.