i came for what i left behind—
a locker full of things:
perfume, a t-shirt
i didn’t know i had,
and i took off my coat,
(like i planned to stay)
sat on the bench,
(like i belonged there)
hoping no one would notice
how i didn’t.
i wasn’t there to run.
i’ve forgotten how
to move like that—
forward, with purpose.
still, i greeted a machine
like it might remember me,
set the weight,
proved to myself
i could still lift
something.
i stepped onto the belt
and let it carry me—
not running,
not standing,
just not stopping.
i waited
for the breath to change me,
for sweat to wash something clean,
for my body to remember
this used to be joy.
it didn’t.
so i walked
like there was something ahead
if i just stayed long enough—
until my legs gave out,
or i did,
trying to find
whatever it is
that makes people say,
this helps.
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 9:48 AM UTC
i came for what i left behind—
a locker full of things:
perfume, a t-shirt
i didn’t know i had,
and i took off my coat,
(like i planned to stay)
sat on the bench,
(like i belonged there)
hoping no one would notice
how i didn’t.
i wasn’t there to run.
i’ve forgotten how
to move like that—
forward, with purpose.
still, i greeted a machine
like it might remember me,
set the weight,
proved to myself
i could still lift
something.
i stepped onto the belt
and let it carry me—
not running,
not standing,
just not stopping.
i waited
for the breath to change me,
for sweat to wash something clean,
for my body to remember
this used to be joy.
it didn’t.
so i walked
like there was something ahead
if i just stayed long enough—
until my legs gave out,
or i did,
trying to find
whatever it is
that makes people say,
this helps.
this one is about going back to the gym.
Request permission to use this poem