Megan McNaughton

Driving With My Eyes Closed

** on derealization disorder

Wind blows through my hair —

In my mind I count shooting stars,
Find myself missing San Francisco.

Changes like small earthquakes,

I watch life happen around me
Through distorted film, a silent movie —
Words unsaid. I checked my pockets
Six times before I left.

Once I asked you if it ever hurts to know

One day you might not be able to do the things you once loved.

The glare of passing headlights suddenly clears.

I can’t shake this feeling. Something’s missing.

My hands gravitate towards you, muscle memory,

Nostalgia for crisp autumn air,
for feelings that never went away.

Time heals
Broken clock hands. Summer drags on
Yet only months have passed.

Still stuck in that final gesture between us,

I take the edge off
Only creating more edges —

My world has flipped so many times

I can’t remember which way is up.