Oops! I Forgot My Gravity Today
My running is not just legs moving.
It is a bright, sharp whisper.
The ground becomes a fast, flat rug
that is trying to slide out from under me.
My breath is a tiny, scared bird
trapped inside my chest.
Watch my feet! They are kicking up
small, brown clouds of forgotten gravity.
I am chasing a shadow
that tastes exactly like red licorice.
Every pump of my arm
is a hammer hitting a soft, invisible drum.
I am running so fast,
I am going to catch the edge of the air
and fold it into a neat, happy square.
It is a bright, sharp whisper.
The ground becomes a fast, flat rug
that is trying to slide out from under me.
My breath is a tiny, scared bird
trapped inside my chest.
Watch my feet! They are kicking up
small, brown clouds of forgotten gravity.
I am chasing a shadow
that tastes exactly like red licorice.
Every pump of my arm
is a hammer hitting a soft, invisible drum.
I am running so fast,
I am going to catch the edge of the air
and fold it into a neat, happy square.
This poem is copyright (©) Brandi Lynn 2026
About the Writer
Brandi Lynn
After finding peace by allowing her experiences to flow onto paper, Brandi Lynn embraced art and writing as a non-negotiable tool for self-acceptance. As an artist, writer, and literacy specialist, her poetry and visual work embody the quiet beauty of an authentic perspective. She is now sharing her work more widely while actively developing a children's book and innovative learning kits, hoping to make reading as free and expressive as her art.
