My Mom Went To the Store

There’s this paper. Words, and things, And things can become mangled like the lines that are stabbing through each other. Handwriting- that’s what keeps us all safe from a failing grade. We are all part of a life of communication. Which comes at the cost of a childhood I forgot about. Lessons and harshness from school. We learned numbers too. 1,2,3,4. And the numbers can be scrambled, if I stop counting. There’s numbers next to other numbers. There’s words next to other words. And some words are in my mouth. Words that spin on my tongue, but go nowhere. Spinning like that sound of tires. The car is- In the driveway. That’s where the groceries are. I just know, I just can feel it. But the list! The list is right next to me? So how did she know? How did she know this list? This list that is only a part of me and no one else in this world… Unless, I sent her a picture of this list, so the list is a screen. Two lists in one world.