thoughts ≠ sx

xi

you're a flurry of motion, accidentally creating a condescending glare when we bump into you or get in your path.

my socks brush against the tile as i avoid your dog, singing a carrie underwood song mixed with a few one direction notes in the wrong octave, laughing when we accidentally drop the yolk into the egg white.

the weight on my chest i woke up with is still there, but i can breathe through it now that it's shifted.

your older brother carefully shows me how to pour vanilla, until i throw flour in his face and he chases me around the counter, swearing up and down that i'm his least favorite. it's nice to see him smiling- he's so swamped with college applications and the pressure of the big bad world.

i woke up with a brick in my lungs this morning, making it hard to breathe, tears welling in my eyes as i ball up my sheets in my fists and hope it goes away as my mom walks in and wakes me up.

the brick is not gone, but it's chipped away slightly, or maybe i'm getting stronger, and it's easier to ignore, to lift it off my ribcage momentarily, the thrum of heart silent.

as i swipe the icing off the whisk and grin, i think about how cruelly ironic this world is, that i can be so unhappy in the happiest of situations, yet be so happy at the same time.

it feels like a lie, saying i'm happy.

but who knows.

i guess i'm alright just saying i'm moving along.

whether it's happy or not.

[]

if i could fly,
-sx