If My Thoughts Could Catch Their Breath
by Schuyler Peck
the dog gains six new nicknames from this weekend alone.
if he knew how to speak, he’d tell me this is overkill.
tuesday afternoon, I talk myself down from a spiral
that I self-inflicted this morning. my body shifts
from feverish intensity to a more comfortable
we’ll probably be fine; all a matter of self-conversation.
this also, perhaps, fits comfortably under overkill.
at the bathroom sink, a memory slips in between the soap
and my hands. the old apartment, the blare of his voice,
freight train on the tiled floor. how she said that night,
I was almost drunk enough to leave him. the lover then.
the best friend then. an era where I have neither and am still happy.
the cool water drips from my wrists. the pull of paper
from the dispenser. how quickly my mind will run when there’s room to.
synonyms for excessive. synonyms for unmeasured.
Schuyler Peck is a writer and performer from Portland, Oregon. She is the author of To Hold Your Moss-Covered Heart and A Field of Blooming Bruises, among other titles. Her work can also be found at Crooked Arrow Press, Rising Phoenix Review, JuxtaProse Magazine, Words Dance, Persephone’s Daughters, Thought Catalog, Literary Sexts: Vol. 2, and more. She loves you. Follow at @hiitssky on Instagram.