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ABSORBED BY STATUS QUO
I never really thought very far
beyond the day-to-day. Next year
I’ll graduate high school. Then what?
University? Doubtful. Community
college? Maybe. But I still have no
idea what I want to be. Teacher?
I can’t imagine spending my days
trying to keep kids in line, let alone
trying to teach them something.
Astronomer? I actually love scouring
the heavens, imagining what might be
out there somewhere. But how do you
make money doing that? Doctor?
Blood makes me sick. Stockbroker?
Yeah, right. Some tedious job seems
the likely road, and routine might work
best for me. But will it bring happiness?
Fulfillment? I don’t even know if that matters.
Beyond “what will I do,” where will I live?
I can see Grandfather failing, though
he’d never admit it in a million years,
especially not to himself. If he gets sick,
I’ll take care of him, like he’s taken
care of me. But if he dies … what?
My fingers begin to tingle. I’m alone
now, as I’ll be alone then, swallowed
by silence. I rasp razor-edged air.
On my own. Don’t want to be there.
Can’t breathe. On my own. Must.
