Between Places

I am somewhere between places

I never wanted to stay.

One project ends,

another opens its doors,

and somehow

both rooms look the same.

I come home

to a room that knows too much

the chair where I study,

the bed where I overthink,

the ceiling that has heard

every version of

“maybe tomorrow.”

My phone stays quiet.

No job calls.

No sudden turn of luck.

Just another application

disappearing somewhere

I cannot follow.

And lately,

my own body

has become another uncertainty.

A shoulder I never thought about

now follows me into every plan;

the gym,

the water,

the person I wanted to become.

They speak of fixing it

as if fixing is a simple word.

I only wonder

how much of me

will have to stop

before I can begin again.

It is strange

to have so many plans

and still feel

like nothing is moving.

I wanted a different job,

a stronger body,

a little more money,

a little more life,

someone beside me

when the evenings became too long.

Instead,

I have this room.

And me.

Maybe that is why

I haven't given up yet.

Because every night

I meet the same tired person here,

and every morning

somehow,

I get up.

~F8