I can’t just turn feelings off
as if they never existed,
or pretend like they weren’t
logical
to feel in the first place.
I was probably overreacting
overthinking it
being petty.
But logic wasn’t absent;
it was linked
to.every.feeling.
I felt like my dream
my future
was being pulled
from underneath me,
yet somehow
I was still standing,
like a
w
o
b
b
l
i
n
g
saltshaker
suddenly losing its tablecloth –
while the table
and most of the things on it
never
moved.
It was never mine,
but it felt like it was stolen
while I watched
every
move.
After some distance of time,
I can see
it wasn’t my dream,
but it had a similar shape.
(I think.)
I’m not even sure what my dream is, exactly.
I only get sporadic
inklings
of what it could be.
But just before the shape of it disappeared,
it seemed close
and unreachable.