Too Many Squares

Each square on the calendar a demand,

bright colors suffocating in their cheerfulness,

promises I made when I felt stronger,

now feel like stones pressing against my chest.

I blink at dinners canceled, obligations

that twist into knots in my stomach,

the unchecked boxes haunting like shadows,

as I wonder where I lost the breath,

the moments that were meant to fill me up,

replaced with hurried emails, to-do lists,

that thrummed like a pulse I can’t quite escape,

and all I want is to rip the page,

to reclaim those hours that slip through fingers,

like water, like warmth, like everything I miss,

and breathe again, breathe slow, breathe free.