I Promise To Eat My Peas - PRINT

While the world swirls down the drain, I feel like I’m treading water—only it’s thick, like oil. Even the protest I marched in the other day felt muted, like I was screaming in a dream but no sound came out. I just want to disappear into the forest. I want to watch cottonwood fluff drift around me like snow. I want life to be simple again—like when I was a child, kneeling by the canal, collecting tadpoles in a bucket to save them from the ditch rider. I want to hear my mother calling me in for dinner. I promise to eat my peas this time—I won’t hide them under the rim of my plate. Since I can’t go back, I’ll sit quietly behind the ferns and watch the light filter through the trees. I’ll let the stillness hold me. I’ll sink into the deep moss and vanish into the green.