Aching away in the confines of a chair,
her legs itch to
run through waterfalls
shiver and freeze and
collapse at the point of an insanity
which never lasts too long.
Her arms long to tread water:
to swing across a child's monkey bars
to tip one too many drinks
down an eager throat
and feel no consequence other
than the sweet nectar of stinging
chemical at the back of the mouth.
She used to take pleasure in the way
her head could lift and turn to face
the wind or chase sea air
and taste salt on bare skin;
she held the ocean across open palms
as one in love might clutch at the sun
and thank it for just
one more day of light.
But now it drowns her
a little more every minute.
In time she curls in on herself, a page folded
over to defend the secret inscriptions
she knows she can never bear to release
from beneath her own burning skin.
Scrolling helplessly across her screen
she watches life pass her by.
Scroll: her daughter's best friend graduates
with flowers in her hair.
Scroll: another wedding blooms across
her fingers like silk.
Scroll: young eyes glimmer with a once
familiar promise --
Scroll. She shuts off her phone
and rolls over to sleep.
She knows now
that she will never do anything