I Am a Little Piece of Movement That Will Soon Change Shape

by Sam Aupperlee

i am walking and I am wondering how the cement underneath my feet is made and I am wondering how long it takes dextroamphetamine to work its way into my brain and I am thinking about the $34.49 I just spent at the prescription desk in walgreens which is definitely more than I have ever spent at walgreens before and I am imagining the look on the pharmacists face when she told me I could go to jail for sharing this with a sibling or a friend or a classmate and I am wondering why this feels like my last day on earth

I guess I have been falling up for 19 years That is not a very long time but enough To notice that some wind has rushed past my ears You know the feeling?

My father has been falling up forever longer than me I imagine the day he realizes the air around him I imagine he might look right past it to see me

My father asked me what was wrong And I did not know Instead I remind him “It is weary to be patient” And very suddenly I am a little boy My small sticky hands wrapped neatly together and pressed like fresh laundry over the folds of his neck My itty bitty forehead burrowing fiercely and intentionally against a relentless shoulder My teeny face squinted desperately tight and begging to become a wall Body coiled and cold and so heavy The way one’s body is always heavy when held up by a savior

the sun has set and I am in my room again and I am watching old youtube clips to avoid thinking about the fact that tomorrow morning I will swallow a pill and what has been a cloud will become a line and I am wondering why a friend told me that she just knows I will cry at the end of multiple worlds surely this one?