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Writer's pictureMolly Cole

worm

Updated: Apr 22, 2022

It doesn't matter how many tango classes I take

Or how many great weekends I have

It cannot wish away what is permanently waiting for me.

A hearty and genuine laugh cloaking a sea urchin

Hiding but not deeming ineffectual the stingers.

The air is biting and the snow outside makes me sad like it never has

You tell me to just call you??

But it's the very air that's different there.

I may not be able to as much as id like to.

There returns a heaviness

That I wish I could slump off

Like the sludge on my shoes

Like that man's eyes looking at me

Like I wanted a shield

Protect a layer of myself from his penetrating gaze

I wanted to say something

but what

Hey, can you stop looking at me?

Sounded dumb

Sometimes you do feel dismissive

Or I'm worried to bring things up to you because

Maybe you'll think they are dumb

But intensely big to me

And maybe both are correct and true

I bubble up big

Better get used to it

I'm feeling flat out tired

I could sleep and go on sleeping

But my body hints at restlessness

Only a couple more days

I called my parents just now and felt like I was lying to myself.

I wish I was a worm

I wish my life a bit was meaningless and arbitrary but that I had a direct and succinct cause to follow

Like whatever worms do in dirt,

I'm so grateful for the beautiful life I am living and I am happy with it

And I'm working on myself

But in moments

I wish I was a stupid little worm

Devout of feelings or knowledge and so okay with it.

Just present and living

Like a worm

No past

No present

No future

Just worm.


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