Why Am I Here?

A poem

Tatyana Sussex
2 min readApr 26, 2021


Photo by author.

We’re all the same person, walking and wandering home —

look, the eaves how they slope into the cracked streets of

our neighborhoods. Cars drive over them — honk honk

to hospitals and offices, to restaurants and airports.

Small bodies slip into the world; more bodies roar out

while we sit on the corner of our beds removing

one sock at a time, wondering What’s for dinner

wondering when we can put our sad bodies down at night.

Our hearts sing a bruised song, yet they’re made for breaking:

Crack, snap, ping, pong — hear that, how we repair ourselves?

We excel at blooming and cracking, as the sun marches

over the sky. The months speak to us in shades of green.

Look at all these legs striding over the arc of the globe,

look how un-alone we all are. Invisible companions

escort us from breakfast to dinner, from work to rest,

from the first ride home as newborns to the last airless

transit. The clouds are rippled with tragedy as they fly past.

Their faces change — from angel to monster —

just like yours, just like mine. Today, we drink

from a mountain spring, crossing our fingers,

tomorrow we will hold a yellow tulip up to the cars speeding by,

sending messages in a pointed petal, so perfect on a late April day.



Tatyana Sussex

Writer, coach, swimmer, late-marrier. Guide, companion, and explorer at the trailhead of Everyday Creative Coaching: www.everydaycreative.net