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.