Wandering Thoughts

She is a plant

Not just any plant

But the kind that, if you think she’s wilting

Just give her a little water and sun

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She’ll sprout right back up

As if nothing had ever happened

As if she’s always been this upbeat ray of sunshine

As if her mind isn’t as dark and empty as an abandoned mine

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She watches Circle K cups tumble down the streets

like reluctant tumble weed

Just tumbling along to wherever the wind goes

becoming things people just step on, or parts of nests for crows

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She sees lost dogs in shelters

Immediately she sees herself in them

To her they’re human

To her they can feel as much as her

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She lets out an inaudible whisper

To the dog who peers through the holes in the aluminum fence

“I know how you feel.”

“I already love you.”

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She searches for music that will remind her of simpler times

back when she wasn’t scraping through nickels, pennies, and dimes

Anything that will make her feel something

but she can’t focus enough to soak in the words anymore

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She’s constantly molting her shells

Each time only becoming half of the person she was

These are her hells

Each day is a different one

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She feels herself changing for the worse

She fears that there’s no stopping it

It is what it is, she murmurs heavily under her breath

Feeling this much isn’t a blessing

Feeling this much is a curse