Moving day

In the backseat my voice has been captured

caught in the teeth of the blue bag

the sky is split completely in half

blue skies on one side

gray and bulbous on the other

I snap its neck with my phone

sink my torso to my knees

the trailer park revival begins

with a four drawer dresser around my

middle and every step I’m knocking my knees

my mind has wandered off exhausted and delirious to lay on the tracks

in the empty rooms I discover

a game of my own

striking the walls incessantly

with a glowing orb

catching it in my hands

trying to determine its next move

it jolts and juts directionless

with the grooves worn in the floor

I am still learning

everyday

how to use my hands

to tame my thoughts

to use my voice

I hear the conversations go on without me muffled now by the door

I am thankful

to have a moment

where nothing is requested of me