I break down in the supermarket grocery aisles
because I only have five minutes to make the choice
between a variety of granola bars.

I count the moments until everything stops
because someday I will be forced to catch my own breath
and pace it against the metronome’s slow count
a pendulum swing between empty space
and the pulse of thoughts in beats per second

I share the accrued space in my thoughts
you all amass because I know
each day is a slow crawl
an unwinding, where I can’t come back for seconds,
I can hear repetition at the base of my skull
echoing tick-tick-tick –

tick
another flutter of anxiety in my chest
tick
retread the same thoughts over and over
tick
grasping the present like water in my fist
tick
immortalize everything before it fades
tick
       registering the clock as my time runs out.

here I am:
in the aisle
wondering
when I start
(and where I end.)