I pack it in slowly,
as if going any slower
would make the sun shine less bright.
Would the leaves stop rustling
in my ear?
I can’t walk up the stairs
because my legs are too light—
so heavy that I can’t tell
if they’re there or not.
I stand there clueless,
wondering what to do with my feet.
A knock at the door keeps me awake,
but only for a minute.
There are others trying to talk to me,
like I wasn’t already listening.
Well, what are you going to do—
just stand there?
Like it hasn’t asked you
the same question
2,372 times.