Stuck

When I felt

the stuck of you,

I knew you needed

to move.

The mud in the air around you

as you tap

tap

tapped away

told the story of a stuck girl.

Getting the job done,

wishing you were anywhere else

but there.

I supposed

you must have spent days,

weeks,

months or years,

longing to flow

like the river you were born to be.

But instead,

you’ve been there.

In a state that outgrew you

long ago.

I wish I could tell you:

it’s okay to move.