Poem from my poetry chapbook: In the Feels

Gut Punch

Hit me like a punch
to my gut make my
lunch wanna come
back to see the light of
day and night and day
is almost over yet I
hover waiting for the
frozen inevitable that
hangs suspended in
reality like a piece
of pineapple in a jello
mold. It grows old, so
I’m told to hold your
breath for the unachiev-
able, the unbelievable but
the undeniable truth is
that we have nothing
else to do with the
knowledge that has been
crammed down our
throats. Open up here
comes the train, the
plane, this is insane
I can’t swallow, can’t
follow where you lead.
I can only see, can’t
move my feet. My eyes
won’t blink and I think
this is it, the end, but
I pretend it’s not. I
take a breath and blow
it out and the world
begins to move.