Has it really been fifteen years
since I first took little steps onto Marley.
Her grey appearance that welcomes all while reflecting
the fluorescent lights above.
A friend I have grown so accustomed to
feeling under the ball of my calloused feet,
assisting my body as I jump, turn, fall, crawl, slide, then
Melt into her as mixing emotions swirl in the hot air
smooth like a new jar of peanut butter or rough like unsanded wood.
She’s where blood, dirt, sweat, tears, and hair collect together
like a diverse community.
Marley teaches lessons
of trusting she will always be there.
Supporting my movements forever
like Marley is my biggest fan.
Bruises will appear, blisters will open, bones could potentially break
all with a partner we pour our lives onto.
I’ve trusted Marley for so long I’m almost hesitant
to leave, feeling disappointment reach up into my bones.
All of her signs point to me staying
grounded on her where my mind, body, and soul have grown.
What if those signs are wrong?
Teachers have always said that the floor will never leave
you, so don’t look down, trust the patterns of your feet.
As I look down now
I see only concrete, not my constant partner.
Marley has left me, or rather
I left her,
along with my childhood dream.