I step out my door, slip the anchor of routine,
and fall into the sky like Alice in reverse.
I follow my heart because it won’t shut up
and now what? Now I’m here, crying.
Like everyone who failed to keep love,
like everyone who lost more hope than blood,
like everyone.
Someone else near weeps all wide-mouthed night
for their own dead kids, for their kerbside fear,
for their partial parents and that time they spent
their last money on swimwear instead of food.
Like everyone anchored by a thread,
remembering being this age, this afraid,
in this hotel.
"When does this end?" I asked my father,
we were laughing at my teen drama. He smiled,
climbed crumbling stairs, and like
a conspirator said: "It never does."
- Phyllis M
Oof. Darling girl. You shatter me every time xx