(Good) Morning

Maybe the night of loud dreams and all the loud feelings would be gone.
I'd wake up lighter.

But the cave of my chest still echoed your hollow steps,
two beats with every thought of you.

I lay in bed, noticing the sky is darker
and thought the world was trying to match my mood.
It was just cloudy and the sun had begun its fight toward us.

I sat very still,
knowing that once my body moved I would have to pretend to let go of you.
I'd have to have a day.
With people.
With work.
With more than I wanted
and less you.
I didn't want to move.

I talked to the sky briefly.
“I can't do this.
You're going to have to open up a little bit if you want me to.
You're gonna have to tell me what to do
You're gonna have to promise me”

The sky shook its head
and clouds rolled closer together
like knit melting to coffee swirls of gray.
They wouldn't give up...
So I did.

The wood floor was cold on my feet.

Photo by Rachel N Broaddus.  Words by Jordan Lane Shappell.