Freezer Burn

Fluorescent lights buzz like angry wasps,

my hands still smell like cheap plastic,

that cold hum of frozen meat lingers, a ghost.

And then it pings, that stinging message,

a weightlessness I can’t fathom,

words spilling out, vivid and cruel,

drumsticks and broccoli forgotten.

I read and feel the earth shift,

a tidal wave of freezer burn,

even my heart echoes—

a pang sharper than any blade.