The Floors of My Mind

Too many people in an area designed only for a few. As a ball-like feeling claws its way up my throat, the skin from my arms stick to parts of the torso where they meet in my sleeves. TEN. All of my senses are not getting along. My eyes are playing tricks where one must follow the other. I wish for a mask as I smell the cloud of perfume and body odor and wonder which is mine. I comfort myself by leaning against a corner that I know has been touched by many other's backends. NINE. I can hear the clicks from a nearby phone, a sniffle, a nervous tap of a shoe, and a huff and puff... Oh lord, please blow this down! If I could hear smiles, the silence would be one of concern. EIGHT. There it is... the ball has found its way to the top of my esophagus waiting to be forced right back down, just to fight yet again for a view. SEVEN. How the living nightmare are we not there?! How can a single minute feel like so much more?! SIX. My fingers find their way to the back of my shoulders where they uneasily meet my tense neck. My chiropractor has jokingly said, "If you get any more knots, they'll never get untied." I did not believe it was all that amusing. FIVE.

Do you think anyone can hear what goes on in my head? The conversations among my butting personalities? A superpower one would probably keep secret, but one that is way too revealing. FOUR. In life you get to a point when you realize something is half over. It is as if you can see a line, a barrier that keeps out the water from above your head. Slowly as time gets closer to the end, the line moves and starts to tilt that water on and around you. If you keep going, it will tilt more and go from a drip to a steady stream to a pour. Your breathing will match until it is taken from you. THREE. After this, two clicks of my key fob to unlock my car door, two clicks to lock it again, two locks to unlock the front door of my house, two to lock once in. Everything happens in pairs, as it should be, as that is what calms my mind. I need to know that there is purpose in what I do. There must be order. TWO. Bing! The elevator stops and the doors start to open. There is no feeling quite like the relief of escaping a social scene where all participants are not led by their own will. As I walk through, I feel a slight tug on my bag. Please, please, please only have been a mistaken catch. As I look back, I see a coworker with their mouth widening as if they are about to speak to me. "Oh great, small talk!" I think to myself sarcastically. ONE. The minute has already ended.