How You Know It’s a Nightmare

How You Know It’s a Nightmare

You cannot stop forgetting,
but every minute, you remember
you are forgetting. You are letting
them all down. You were trying
to go to class, to feed your dog,
to call your friend. What were
you just doing.

You need to run. You need
to scream. But your energy
is gone. Your voice can’t
climb up your throat.

You are late. The sidewalk
gives you stray kittens,
abandoned toddlers to collect
and distribute. You do not
know how to prioritize.

You never learned how
to drive this kind of car,
all the instructions in German
and a handbrake and knobs
in the dash.

You need to save
whoever you love most.
Even when you save them,
you aren’t safe.
No one is.