The Poetry Marathon

Who knew that it would take a band from across the ocean to get me to smile again

Who knew it would be a reality show that would give me my craziest idea yet

Who knew that searching for housing would lead to this

Who knew that everything I was looking for was in the exact opposite place of where I was looking

Who knew?

I have found my hairbrush

I have found my favorite shirt

I have found my favorite game

I have found the plug for that thing I sold

I have found how many boxes and bags it takes to move me

I have found that more space is better than less

I have found peace

I have found quiet

I have found my happy place

So quiet

So dark

The sun had not reached the horizon

But the moon has long since

Abdicated the sky

Stars shine their brightest

And for the briefest of moments

All is still

All is calm

All things are possible

These are the special ones

Read and re-read

Spines cracked and pages creased

They travel with me

They are the first to be packed

Upon the occasion of a move

Yes, these must come with me

These I hold to my heart

Even if I became a nomad

These would sit on my pack mule’s back

Wandering with me through the world

I am saving one box

To be the last box

The last one that I open

And slowly unpack

The last one that I pull apart

And find places for things to go

It’s the box of breakable things

The box of unnecessary things

The box that is the final touch

The collection of knick-knacks

That I have cultivated over the years

When this last box is unpacked

I know I am home

When I became an adult

Well, scratch that

I don’t think I ever became an adult

But when I got older

I was told to put away childish things

But I never got a clear definition

On what childish was

I keep toys on my bookcase

One the mantelpiece

In my purse

I read kids books

And laugh

I read books for teenagers

And am amazed by the stories

I watch kid movies

Because sometimes you need some sanity

I talk to little kids

Because sometimes only a little chis

Can make the world seem right again

These were the shoes

I bought with the first paycheck

Of my first full-time job

Even as they get old

And fall into disrepair

I still keep them

And occasionally wear them

My badge of honor

I should get a shadow box

And memorialize

This moment of celebratory materialism

The day I bought my first and last pair

Of orange shoes

With Boston terriers on them

The bones ache

The nerves re-alight

Forgotten pain courses through the veins

Surging with evening

And crashing once laid down

Hot and cold

Craving comfort and solitude

Everything is too much

And not enough

All at once

I pull on my favorite hat

And the world rights itself

The soft yarn encloses me

The holes keeping me from getting too hot

Loosely wrapped

And comfortable

Security returns to me

I didn’t know pain had a taste

Until it was in my mouth

Not sour like I thought it might be

Not bitter either

It was acrid

Stinging

Permeating everything I ate

I was eating pain

I was sipping pain

Swallowing it down

Only for it to come back up

That intense pain

That pulls at the patience

And the nerves

And I can’t swallow it down far enough

To keep it from coming back up again