I spent nights anxiously,
twisting and turning
worrying about traffic patterns and being late
whether I’d sustain the commute
the tectonic plates under me have shifted
almost all the way to the left
and I’m barely hanging on,
relying on my arms and fingernails to save me.
Now, it’s not financial fears that keep me up
like they used to when I was younger
uncertain of what the future held for my bank account.
You slip through the cracks between my fingers
like granules of sand that I cannot keep safe not matter how hard I try
I am grabbing with all my might,
fighting to keep us, us
but in the end—
you must choose
and I too, must
I will be.