sometimes
i wonder…
[that’s it
that’s the poem
i am often wondering
and it could be good
and it could be bad
and it could be neutral
and it could be all-encompassing
and it could be overwhelming
and it could be minute
and it could be obsessive
and it could be passing
but damn near all of the time
i
am
wondering]
and some days
it’s the procrastination
that turns to housework
that’s all that’s needed
and the sadness
that turns to book-reading
that really mattered
and the morning poetry
awkwardly completed at night
that was what had to be done.
autumn is a time for falling asleep
spring is the awakening
autumn is preparing for the months of winter depression
spring is shedding those sads
autumn is slowing, pondering, thinking, dying
spring is the adrenaline amping up again
so why do i feel so tired and sad and ponderous
while spring is all around me?
~~~
coffee
music
cat on lap
dog on couch
kip across the table
help me enter the day
my way
~~~
i know my headspace isn’t great
if i obsess over things
or
if i shoot from one subject matter
to the next
to the next
with no real resolution
and no thinking through to the end.
so why are my indications
entirely opposing?
is this my black and white thinking coming to some sort of fruition
or is this the source of my non-grey-mind?
wrote a thing
i should have written days/weekes ago
as a procrastination
to what i should be writing
now
how
and why
do i do this to myself?
i am
a very stubborn person
a very strongheaded person
an i-put-my-mind-to-a-task-and-i-do-it person
a person who sets a goal and sticks to it
a person who does things
when i was sixteen years old, without a flexible muscle in my body
i decided i wanted to be flexible
so i stretched every morning
and was, after just a few months
able to do all splits
and waterfall into a back-bend
and i did this with very little knowledge
(which would bite me in the ass later,
but that’s not the point of this poem)
i wanted to be something
so i set my mind
and i did it.
i have other examples
of stubbornness
of setting my mind
but that is the one i call upon first
because it is such a clearcut example
of how i can accomplish
anything
i put my mind to
so why can’t i ever set my mind to loving myself
to forgiving myself
to cutting myself a little bit of slack
to giving myself a little bit of a mental break over things that
i probably had very little control over in the first place?
is it because i don’t actually want to love/forgive/let myself off the hook?
i’d say
probably
(but then that brings up a whole new question
which is
why?
why do i think i don’t deserve love?
why do i think i’m reprehensible if i dare to cut myself the tiniest bit of slack?
why does my feeling of worthiness come directly from how worthless i can
make myself feel?
this doesn’t seem healthy or accurate or growth-inducing
so why do i still do it?)
(i don’t have any answers right now)
it’s so easy for me to fall
in love
head over heels
dramatically
[platonically]
asking for your heart
opening myself up to let you in
welcoming all of you
beauty
faults
talents
salt
my compassion
for your passion
is limitless
but the minute someone says
‘i’ve made a place for you
in my heart,
please come and tell me
of your dreams and nightmares,
your goals and your regrets,
i want to know all of you
i welcome all of you,
beauty
faults
talent
salt…’
i feel the air
absent
instantaneous
my figurative feet frozen
flipping from fight to flight
forever
heart pounding
knees shaking
voice quaking
why can’t i just let myself,
my already fully opened self,
receive what i’ve already given?
why am i always at a precipice
of giving myself over
surrendering myself to others
and never taking that necessary
step/leap/plunge?
i want to
so badly,
but my entire nervous system
screams against it.
so that the minute i take
the minutest step
towards letting someone
see
me—
the minute they don’t follow
100% of my expectations—
i use that as proof
that i never should have trusted in the first place
and that adds one more minute
on the precipice
between giving and receiving,
loving and pushing away
trusting and unjustly feeling so betrayed
that already the freeze feels like an eternity…
someday
it will be
the pacing
of the pattern
is getting closer…
how did weeks of
inspired writing
followed by
existential creative despair
turn to days
to maybe hours now?
i’m losing concentration
faster than i’m gaining traction
and i just want to be able to stick to a day
and live it all the way through
without naps interrupting
or needing something to drown out my thoughts…
i keep having impulses to do things–
wanting to sew, but on the days i actually have time,
i sit down to a project;
it all feels so overwhelming
and at the same time meaningless.
it’s hard to battle the depression in your head
when it’s both a foreign invader
and your closest, best friend,
[and also, in many many ways,
just yourself.]
this poem is a mess
but so is my head lately
(and in an hour or two,
i bet you anything
i’ll be fine)
the day is gray
and rainy
and my capacity sits at the precipice
of being awake and creative enough
to write and read and work and create
and all those good things,
and that of succumbing to the drear
of the clouds and rain and outside
drain my creativity
until my body floats like vapor
up to the sky
[[[to fly?]]]
connection
in this day and age
of high speed internet
and loudfast cars down the street
and split second decisions
is so rare
but somehow we found each other
and talking with you makes time stop
and we push each other to create a legacy
while still reminding each other to sit in the garden
for as long as the dog will allow us
and our skin on skin contact
is my favorite feeling
in the universe
so let’s continue this
for another five/ten years
because i was just treading water
before you came into my life
April
Fool me once
shame on you
Fool me twice
blame the day.
i actually have no concrete qualms
of this Fools of April
day
but i’m morally against
any pranks or fooling
in bad taste
that do harm
(i mean, i’m against harm
being done
at all)
pranks i enjoy
are things like
Rick-Rolling
and
innocent claims
truthed-up in a moment,
no elaborate schemes
or embarrassment on the prankee.
as a child/teen
i spent the entirety of the 1st
high on my guard
looking at everything
with suspicious eyes,
i felt my entire nervous system
throughout the day
ready to spring
at the tiniest possible stimulant
(how i didn’t know i had anxiety…?)
but i don’t know
what i’m trying to say
with this poem today
i guess
just
don’t be mean,
and give your friends
with generalized anxiety disorder
a break
(since they certainly aren’t going to give themselves one
until midnight oh one
on the second)
kipventures 