I am the locket held close to someone’s chest, cherished by the illusion of being. Should I be opened and unhinged, the exposure will make the picture dry out & fade away.
An administrator at work sees the shallowness of my breath & the pools surfacing in my face. I am left alone with 200 students bursting with beautiful & untamed energy. His arm around my shoulder, he says, “Hide.”
Everything is dizzying here, but somewhere, this alternate world gets me to stop apologizing.
My grief flows, a creek spilling over its edges from small floods. I let the air hold me still.
Before I report, I cannot see through the smoke I become. “What if no one believes me?” She says, “I do.” I sink back into my body, but at least I have returned home.