1 mississippi…
coiled like a fetus, underneath the table
what if my bookshelf falls?
or the power outlet shocks me?
or my house catches on fire?
where do i run to?
2 mississippi…
hands over my head, protecting my skull
what will I save first?
my laptop, my memory box, or my journals?
what about that movie ticket somewhere inside my desk drawers
that i just can’t seem to throw away?
3 mississippi…
heart racing, thoughts running
how easy life could my life have been?
if my hands didn’t sweat and my arms were hairless
and earthquakes didn’t exist
i finally wouldn’t be scared anymore
4 mississippi…
paralyzed by fear, motivated by survival
it’s the more important things that drive me
my purpose, my relationships, my identity
what seemed the world one second ago
ceased to matter instantly
5 mississippi…
rumbling stops, a comforting silence breaks in
what mattered at 1 transformed at 2
and what ruminated at 3 dissipated at 4
time doesn’t stop and worries don’t just disappear
but just stay calm and count to 5
jn
It’s funny to think about how we care so much about this one thing that bothers us and worry about it constantly — whether it be a flaw or a fear — and then one day we naturally just kind of grow out of it and don’t even realize it. When I was a kid, I was terrified of earthquakes after reading a children’s book on them in third grade that traumatized me for years to come. I always thought to myself that if I had one wish, I would wish for there to be no more earthquakes. Then, as I became a teenager, that wish changed to wishing my hands didn’t sweat all the time and my arms weren’t so hairy. As time went on, I’d just find new things to ruminate about. Looking back now, these things are at the bottom of my list of worries. It’s comforting to know I will probably grow out of my current anxieties too. The passing of time heals all.
