she is on autopilot
Misplacing
her phone
her words.
it's hard to write a poem when
all the things are shifting
straight up lifting
you up up up
away.
i write lines
to set things straight
to make the page feel heavy
with remnants of where i've been
so when the disease gets its final win
and in the days leading up to then
i am surrounded
by something
grounded.