There’s Always Something

I have been in rooms I thought were for me

where I watched my own words 

leave me like birds 

convinced the sky kept going 

but then.. they shift, they dodge, they closes the window

so all my birds meet the fate of their tempered glass 

forced to pretend like their "anyways.." didn’t sting.

There’s always something, isn’t there. 

There always is these days.

I tend to arrive in rooms with my whole self 

which I’ve learned 

isn’t always what the room requested.

Too hot. Too cold. Too much. “Next time specify.”

And then I think how 

I have been specifying for years. 

I have been so careful with my words. 

I have been so deliberate 

with this life

I am building from the rubble 

I was once assigned.

I learned early to stay in the room I was given. 

I kept my voice down. Looked towards the sky.

I tried and I tried. Believe me I tried. 

I was too good at it, too bad at it.

But here is what happens 

when it’s 2020 and the world goes quiet 

and we close our windows and seal off the sky

leaving us with a view and a choice entirely our own

to raise our standards or our fists 

to lower our expectations or our voice.

Fists don’t open windows without hurting you too

so you start to see the rooms and the people inside them 

for what they are. Good. Bad. Both. 

Some rooms are not your rooms. 

Some people are not your people. 

This gets to be disappointing because it is.

I let it be disappointing. 

I put my sweatpants back on. 

I eat what I can and call it girl dinner. 

I let the rain do what it needs to do.

And then I pick up the planner. 

I write down the week. 

I remember that I am not waiting.  

I am moving. Always. Literally.

A heartbeat. A blink. A sigh. A shift. A dance. A rebellion across the Atlantic. 

With my cat 

and two suitcases 

and ideas I almost apologized for.

I am always on my way. 

I am always on your side. 

Don't worry my darling —

there is always something.