the3rdpersonstory

Pesto-printed-pasta-bowl

I’m swirling the colours of the room 

Around with my spoon, 

Flossing my teeth with the thoughts in my mind.

The world distracting me from the TV I have on

But am not watching,

Passing the look left with me that one time

A long night ago back and forth between my hands.

Washing over me the faded light,

It’s warm inside,

Treading water on the sofa,

A text lights up the 

Phone floating beside me 

The waves break then and 

I’m tumbling

Chasing the beat in my chest round the kitchen,

Teasing me, bouncing off the walls and 

Out of reach.

Feeling the space beneath

My feet can’t touch the floor.

Rolling over back onto the sofa,

Red joy spilled over the my face and

Clenched my cheeks into fists and 

Clawed at my throat.

A flailing hand landed on the 

Counter and I steadied myself to breathe.

“Yes, give me 5 minutes.”