Dust

I wake up,

and I do nothing.

I flow through the day,

unaware, like a cold, unbothered shell 

on a crowded beach. 

And I want to disappear. 

I look at the boy in the mirror,

as I brush my teeth. 

Ugly red spots, some small, some big,

float calmly across his skin,

like dead salmon 

in a polluted pond. 

And I want to disappear.

Night comes,

and I realize the emptiness of my day;

the time I’ll never get back.

And I dream of a me

I may never be.

And I want to disappear. 

But the next morning,

The sun shines through the window in my room. 

And the trees dance in the wind,

and the empty branches reach for the blue and yellow sky.

And I realize,

I’m not ready to be the dust that floats in the air.