the ground where i’m standing

feels like the end of a chapter

and the silence before a song, all at once.

it’s this space between here and there

both with and without

where i keep finding myself

every time i look up and around for long enough.

because i’m sitting with certainties and uncertainties 

feeling both empty and whole,

and on most days, tomorrow feels like a test with fill in the blank questions

that i don’t have any of the answers to.

but your name has been woven into this story for a while now,

punctuated with question marks and unfinished sentences.

and i’ve had you stuck in my head for some time now,

you sound like an upbeat rhythm,

and you walk along to the tempo 

with more grace and ease than i think i ever could.

see, you keep leaving traces on these pages of my story

each time you come around.

i’ve lost sleep half-heartedly trying to erase the marks 

and scratch out your name

and rewrite the lines.

but as much as i pretend to want to flip the page

i can’t seem to stop rereading this one chapter

over, and over again.

living in this liminal space of not quite’s 

and endless in betweens. 

Ivey Redding