When I was a kid, all I wanted was a sparkly magic wand that would speed up my life
with magical hurry-hurry-quick dust and fast-forward juice
so I could grow up fantastically fast and become me.
Now, I wish on 20 million twinkling stars for a pause button
that would freeze the world’s frantic swirling pace for just one day.
And on this day, I would find a silence-soaked escape
from rushed footsteps and honking car horns and haughty, irritated glances in crowded cafes.
With one slow-motion sneeze, my racing thoughts would sit still
and my lengthiest to-do lists would pipe down, too.
Then, this whimsically wonderful pause button
would create a crater in the middle of my chest where I could process my feelings
and swim like a smiling fish in the pensive feathers of my sensitivity.
Then, I could breathe again.
Because I’ve been suffocating in pools of prickly emotion
that overflow daily from the spongy edges of my fickle heart.
Where the flying fuck is this pause button?
It’s so simple, it’s almost annoying
because it’s been hiding inside of me.
I can dive three feet within, press it whenever I please
and retreat to a sweet palace of padded silence.
So goodbye crazy beautiful world, for right now.
I desperately press pause and stretch out on lazy lounge chairs
embarking on a one-of-a-kind vacation in my heart’s Tahitian turquoise waters
to recharge my depleted battery and explore my soul’s nagging pleas.
I submerge myself in smooth, whipped-cream shhhs
and lap up every last luscious drop until I’m ready
to return to the world’s steady list of pounding demands.
But, for right now, just for right now
this unbroken, silky-soft paused moment
holds everything I need.
Author: Sarah Harvey
Editor: Evan Yerburgh