everything is begging you to stop.
stop reaching
stop searching
stop moving
stop thinking
it’s not over there.
stop hovering above and around and below.
the pictures are begging you
the children are begging you
the pit in your stomach is begging you
they show you
they tell you
it compels you
you press that button
you hold those faces
you hear that feeling
and still
the mess you won’t clean begs you
the sun on your skin begs you
the 3am wake ups beg you.
stop picking your hair
the moments don’t care if you’re there
they will ebb and flow and know and grow
while you pace and race to nowhere
nothing but here, dear.
nowhere but here.
stopping is such a clear route to here
and yet
i reach for here by going there
i search for what i cannot name
& in that absence,
I’m breathless with shame.
i move to feel still
and think to feel tall.
i make pictures
and love my children
and nurse the pit that forever calls.
i step over the mess to get on with my work
that keeps my skin cold
and won’t let me sleep
because I know like i know
and feel like I feel
and have found like I’ve found,
this won’t keep.
and when I finally stop
I know I will go.