Nothing Else

i stepped out of the shower and felt

filthy

i'm not sure how to explain that

i wanted someone to ask me these questions in this order:

mollie,

where are you?

how are you holding up?

what are you doing for thanksgiving?

how do you feel about that?

i am not sad my mom is in la

i am not sad my dad is in portland

they are happy and taking care of themselves

but bear in mind independence was never their shortcoming

i am sad to picture dylan sitting alone

picturing my mom in la

and my dad in portland

i had a lot of anxiety today

the unrest was incomparable

i asked myself in this order:

mollie,

what will you eat?

where will you get it?

what if you go home?

what if you stay here?

i want to ride my bike

it's freeing, and empowering and everything i need

the air cleared my lungs

and my legs were sore

not from a sleepless night

last night i did not take any form of sleep aid

i can't recall the last time

i was so fearful, i cannot even begin to explain

but i fell asleep

i stayed asleep

i woke up

i reflected on my bike ride the whole day

it felt so great

then the grocery store would be too busy to go in

my apple was soft

the laundry room door was locked

i have me, my car, and my bike, though

what's funny is ending up possessing nothing

apart from a means to escape

and a legally binding contract to stay