I know I don’t need to tell you this

but

I’m alive.

 

Place your hand there

on my chest.

 

Do you feel that?

Do you know?

 

I am so alive.

 

My favorite mug

hanging on a hook

above my sink

says,

“Pride and Prejudice”

in orange print

and I’ve never read the book.

 

I eat brussel sprouts

for breakfast

and I grind my teeth

at night

and I talk out loud to my cat

when I’m in the bathroom

or making food.

 

The plants I purchase

rarely make it past a year

and the corner of my bedroom

is piled with workout clothes

and the extra sheets

and my running sunglasses

are caught up

in the cotton.

 

There is a yellow chair

set back against the wall

whose stumpy legs

support my New York TImes habit

on Sundays.

 

I lease my car

and rent my home

and I’ve taken out loans

to go to school

to change lives–

 

someday.

 

I know

though

I know

 

I am alive.

 

Just place your hand here

on my chest

to feel for yourself.

 

My heart says

all

of the important things

collected from you

and the books on my shelf

and the people

I’ve gone running with

and the family

I’ve left behind

in Massachusetts.

 

My heart says

all

of the noble things

that I have gathered

with courage

so I can place

my own hand there

and scoop it out

when

I need it most.

 

So I sit on my chair

with my mug in hand,

the pile in the bedroom

and the loans in my account

and the pans in the sink

from breakfast

all

soften

their shouts.

 

Yes, I feel it now.

Come see for yourself.

I am alive.