I break down in the supermarket grocery aisles

because I only have five minutes to make the choice

between a variety of granola bars.

I count the moments until everything stops

because someday I will be forced to catch my own breath

and pace it against the metronome’s slow count

a pendulum swing between empty space

and the pulse of thoughts in beats per second

I share the accrued space in my thoughts

you all amass because I know

each day is a slow crawl

an unwinding, where I can’t come back for seconds,

I can hear repetition at the base of my skull

echoing tick-tick-tick –

tick

another flutter of anxiety in my chest

tick

retread the same thoughts over and over

tick

grasping the present like water in my fist

tick

immortalize everything before it fades

tick

       registering the clock as my time runs out.

here I am:

in the aisle

wondering

when I start

(and where I end.)