I feel awake in the mornings
when the sun shines earlier every day
and across the floorboards of my bedroom
I walk with careful feet over dormant splinters
that’re there, just waiting for sliding toes.
But sometimes, I walk on my heels
like I were still trying to move backwards
with a back fit for a wall
strong enough to hold me standing
but all this just leaves me wanting to move forward.
I express through progress and digress through excess
and every time I try to move too fast
I find myself lasting only as long as my legs can hold me,
stepping in strides that swing like a grading curve
over all the directions I could’ve,
or maybe should, or
shouldn’t have taken.