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Ninety Seconds

A poem mid-thought.

By Leigh HooperPublished about a year ago • 1 min read
Ninety Seconds
Photo by Abigail on Unsplash

...and maybe it was a stupid thought anyway.

I wait.

Ninety seconds.

That's how long they say it takes to identify an emotion.

A chemical process in the brain.

In that time, a tree blows in the wind.

A phone call happens where someone receives the worst news of their life.

Or the best.

Someone gets a promotion.

Someone dies.

A baby is born.

An animal is killed.

Love begins, love ends.

I breathe in... breathe out.

Something gets caught in my throat, and I try to ignore it.

Pain, I think I'm feeling pain. Oh god has it been ninety seconds yet?

I wait.

I sit.

I hold.

I bite back the thought but here it goes again, bubbling up like bile in my brain.

It isn't stupid.

It's real.

It's raw.

It's a baby crying.

It's a fawn lost in the woods.

It's someone losing their job.

It's a man losing their wife.

It's failure...

It's done.

Ninety seconds.

I feel like I am not enough.

Free VerseStream of Consciousnesssad poetry

About the Creator

Leigh Hooper

A writer in her twenties with a head full of ideas and a room full of books✨

Find me on Substack @ beyond the meadow

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    Written by Leigh Hooper