trapped between horizontal lines

the ship is rocking and I cling to the rails,

squeezing my eyes closed and letting

the sound of the waves like thunder echo in

between my thoughts as my feet slide out

from under me and I’m crashing against

the water the deep drowning dry water

my head breaks the surface to take a

breath of the cold watery air, washing

into my lungs and filling me, weighing

me down as I’m submerged again by

floods of images, bright and persistent:

: staring at the cracked sidewalk,

walking home silent and alone

: hiding inside an oversized

sweater in the back of the class

: lost in a sea of brick and collared

shirts and faces and watching eyes

: separated by windowpanes and

held captive by an inactive mind

the storm is over and a body floats to

the surface, eyes reflecting the patterns

of the sky a mirror reflecting back a

face of possibility, of uncertainty, of fear,

and I’m paralyzed and I’m half-submerged

in the heavy air, too light for the water

and too burdensome for the sky,

trapped between horizontal lines

and even staring at myself, reflecting

over and over and over and over and over

the only words I can mouth are a

message to my own heart a plea:

: tell me who you are because

I can’t quite seem to find you...