I’m worried I might be a narcissist

No one asked me if I wanted this life

yet here I am, sweating in my 

lover’s t-shirt and thinking about

myself again. A therapist once told me

to quit introspection, just

for a month. Try it out, she said.

See how it feels.

I sat on the oversized couch,

felt equal parts terrified 

and like she’d offered me a door,

some way out of the room I 

didn’t know I was in.  

Someone I once loved 

said she didn’t recognize me 

and I panicked because who am I

when my reflection no longer

sees itself? I write about myself

too much. The people I love

are just images of me and my

god they better be beautiful

SEA to JFK

Beyond the oval opening, puffs of smoke suspended

in time. Some clouds smeared like a hand across oil pastel.

This bright circle proof of the ground, still under 

my feet. I look up, see a stewardess

who may or may not be tall. She has loose strands

of blonde hair down her back and I want to peel them off. 

The solid weight of your head is held by my shoulder. I want

to wake you up to kiss you. Every poem I write is a love poem.

My best friend drove us to the airport and we stopped for drinks

just to be together a little longer. I haven’t been to New Jersey 

since the pandemic forced me out.  I might kiss the ground 

when I touch it. I want to kiss the crying toddler on her forehead. 

My shoulder hurts but I won’t move.