I can’t relax

I am twenty-four hours a day of jittery

A short, walking, double shot of espresso

Feet to the pavement, in constant motion

Walk, walk, walk, walk

Down new and familiar streets

Mapping and remapping this city in my head

Cartography for my solitude

This is my quiet

Because stopping, taking a breather

Is cowardice, defeat, and

Would allow my brain to pause just long enough

To let the spastic ruminations, what ifs

Worst-case scenarios, and internal disaster planning

Stake their place.

Too many thoughts, too many worries

Not enough space to put them all

No way to keep them down

Hold them back

Block their escape

If I stop moving

Walking is my rock, thoughts are my paper

And yet

While rock holds down paper, paper covers rock.