No Direction

The axis on which this world spins has been bent
by hands that forgot to be careful, forgot to be mindful.

As a result, I have begun to spin off kilter
and throw up outside the car window with vertigo.

When I close my eyelids, white lights blindly dance

and whisper “where the fuck are are you going?”
If I knew where I was going, I wouldn’t have
my GPS blinking, screaming, needing direction.

—

Aimee Nicole currently lives in Bristol, Rhode Island. She holds a BFA in Creative Writing from Roger Williams University and has been published by Red Booth Review, Psychic Meatloaf and Petrichor Review.