i left my...



one day i left my apartment,

the effort was twisted with the frustrated

tension of feeling not ready

for the world 


the requisite strength i need 

is enormous and unreliable,

i prepare myself like i’m running a marathon

for such mundane behaviours:

opening and closing a door,

choosing the clean clothes 

among the wrinkled and stained

repeatedly forgetting appointment times

finding and losing notebooks and pens;

things I always believe i need 

but rarely do


the effort i muster, i also reject in reflex

proving newton’s 3rd law

every action has an equal and opposite reaction

me, a rubber band 

stretching and snapping back on itself;

until i come apart 


every thought of opening

the door and leaving 

is denied by a storm surge of panic

that carries imagined and unseen dangers


it should be easier 

just leaving

shouldn’t it be easier?