Song I Can't Hold

I heard it and my body knew before I did.

The speakers were playing it

from somewhere near the cereal aisle,

and I just left the cart.

Left the apples. Left the milk I came in for.

Left and walked past the sliding doors

without looking back.

In the car, I realized I'd been dodging this song

for two years

without knowing it.

Every time it started on a playlist,

my hand would move to skip

before my brain caught up.

Two years of automatic no.

Two years of my body protecting me

from something I didn't even know I was running from.

The song isn't about them anymore.

It's about what I lost before I lost them—

some belief I had about how this would go,

some version of myself who could hear this

and not feel like she was standing

in the produce section

leaving her entire life in a shopping cart.