Moving Layers

Moved. Moved on. Moved out. Moved in.

As one collects objects at different stages, another stacks them to fill up space.

Have you ever felt out of place?

My heart beats strangely, as if having a panic attack; my arms and hands want to shake, but they don’t. My mind strives to move and place such objects in a certain order, as notification sounds pop nearby. Something is stuck.

Breathe in, breath out, they say. Close your eyes, they repeat.

Where does everything go?

I want to be one thing, but am I that thing?

I want to cry and scream, but my fingers tie me here, returning me here to haunting comforts.