Lately, I’ve been afraid.
Afraid of seeing him walk
through that door. Afraid
of not seeing him. Of not
knowing, if he’s okay.
But lately, more afraid of
that shaken up feeling, like
a jar that’s been violently
thrown back and forth until
everything’s mixed up
everywhere and things that
had settled to the bottom
are no longer settled but
floating around, suspended
queasy inside, and things that
were clear are no longer
clear and everything is a
jumbled mess of not being
where it’s supposed to be
and not being able to
orient myself like I am
floating in the middle lost
in the memory of used to be
and the empty of what could
have been and the hollow that
is now–can you blame me?