by Maisha Kamal
“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.” —Jonathan Safran Foer
I remember life by the moments
But these moments—they are fragile
Suspended in time which is elusive
Out of sight, out of mind.
Memory is a crippling burden.
My bones ache underneath the weight of judgment,
Of regret once thought forgotten,
Hidden in the cracks of worn out cartilage,
Making an appearance that is unwanted.
Oh! The things I could have done
In those golden hours wasted
Beating the bars of an iron cage,
Palms bleeding, heart bruised.
But introspection is dangerous.
You consider the options, the possibilities,
The alternate realities in which you thrive
And then you sink to the bottom of the ocean
Desires desperate to break the surface.
But I’ll tell you, as you drift amongst Plato’s ruins…
Hold your breath a few seconds longer
Swim up towards sacred lands,
Celestial spheres may rest on your back
But the world is in your hands.
