{"id":92329,"date":"2021-06-26T14:33:23","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T18:33:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=92329"},"modified":"2021-06-26T14:33:23","modified_gmt":"2021-06-26T18:33:23","slug":"hour-six-as-i-sit-in-the-backseat","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/hour-six-as-i-sit-in-the-backseat\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour Six – As I Sit In The Backseat"},"content":{"rendered":"

I wipe my hand against the foggy glass.<\/span><\/p>\n

The maroon mocks me.<\/span><\/p>\n

If I were walking, I would<\/span><\/p>\n

Climb these metal arms,<\/span><\/p>\n

Ask them to hold me close<\/span><\/p>\n

Before throwing me off the edge.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When I was younger,<\/span><\/p>\n

My relatives used to throw me<\/span><\/p>\n

Around the pool like a ball.<\/span><\/p>\n

The anticipation before the splash<\/span><\/p>\n

Made the whole game exhilarating,<\/span><\/p>\n

And terrifying.<\/span><\/p>\n

As I soared through the air,<\/span><\/p>\n

My stomach hugged itself tightly.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Let the bridge hug me the way my stomach once did to itself.<\/span><\/p>\n

Let the bridge hug me the way water returns to itself after it splashes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Let the bridge hug me the way I wish my family still would.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Let the bridge release me into the water beneath.<\/span><\/p>\n

I know how to swim.<\/span><\/p>\n

I hope I will not need to.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But I am driving from a city that does not yet know me<\/span><\/p>\n

To a city that knows me too well.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am supposed to remember the good things.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Maybe I will experience more good things.<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe the good things don\u2019t matter enough for me to stay.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I wipe my hand against the foggy glass. The maroon mocks me. If I were walking, I would Climb these metal arms, Ask them to hold me close Before throwing me off the edge.   When I was younger, My relatives used to throw me…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2474,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-92329","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92329","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2474"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=92329"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92329\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":92336,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92329\/revisions\/92336"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=92329"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=92329"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=92329"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}