I Feel Things In My Throat

By Aiyana Spear

A long time ago we had a conversation about beginnings and endings and all

the in-betweens. It was one of those 1 AM talks we used to have over text. Those

times when it felt like we were the only people awake in the world, those times

when I felt like I could tell you anything and everything, everything would be

okay. Well that’s what they felt like for me I don’t know about you. I doubt you

remember this one much, it was just one of many, but it was an important one for

me. Your insights made much more sense than mine; you’re too smart for your

age you know. Well, I guess we both are, but I am more mathematical than

profound. We talked about how beginnings and endings are not and never will be

simple, that night I told you about how I thought starting something new is scary

because I would always be aware that someday, maybe soon, it would end. I don’t

remember the exact words that you sent to me but you told me about how I

shouldn’t not want to begin things and start adventures just because they would

eventually end, and endings are beautiful in their own way even though they are

notorious for being difficult. I don’t know if what you said helped anything or

made me think in a different way, but I do remember it.

A lot of the things I feel live in my throat. Perhaps it is because my throat is

the most vulnerable part of my body, so when I feel something that I see as

vulnerable, I just shove it into my throat and ignore it.

I feel endings in the back of my throat, in my lungs and in my collarbone.

Endings make swallowing difficult, they bring tears and they light sparks. Not

pretty sparks but the painful burning kind that eat away at my bones and at my

soul. But that only lasts for around a week; a week of Netflix and ice cream and

tears, and then the numbness sets in.

Some people are good at endings, some people are not. Sometimes it is a bad

thing that is ending and sometimes it is a good thing. I told you that I am bad at

endings, but I lied. I am good at endings. I’ve seen enough of them to be good at

them. It’s the beginnings that I am bad at.

I feel beginnings in my throat too, though they live near the front while

endings hide in the back. Beginnings live in the pit of my stomach and in the area

around my heart (not my heart itself). Beginnings are cold where endings are hot

and they cause everything to freeze up and this, well, this is what fear truly is.

I feel math

in my heart,

pumping the blood

and the soul throughout my body.

I feel math

in my fingers and toes,



on the tip of my tongue.

math does not live in my throat


when it is confusing,

it rears its head

in my brain



a ‘beast’ I must puzzle over.

But math will always,


live in my heart

In math,

beginnings and endings

are simple


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