maybe
it would help
if i were to write poetry
by hand
again
[would it really, tho?]
maybe
it would help
if i were to write poetry
by hand
again
[would it really, tho?]
i work so much better when i have a project
than when i’m left to my own devices
i can’t escape feeling
like i have something i should be doing
but i can’t get off my ass to try, either.
is this a time so say i
love sitting just in the outside
sun shining down but shade keeping up
and puppies beside me continuing to pup
stress
and apprehension
and it not feeling like
an actual opening
and the stories we tell ourselves
about ourselves
when i tell myself these stories
it’s to try to solidify
who i am
because i have no idea
i have no plan
~~~
does one good line
make a poem?
is this my style/my curse?
~~~
my poems are making little to no sense to me
this morning
but i’m still writing them
i’m still dilligently typing
words and phrases as they come
hoping to find some meaning
some
time
soon
maybe don’t concentrate on morning pages
[though it is still morning
and we are on break now
officially now]
horrendous
i don’t know where i’m going
horrendous
i don’t know what i’m doing
horrendous
anyone expecting expectations from humans
when humanity is doing
this
hot hot outside
inside so damn cold
even without any a/c
even without the freezing air of summer
in the united states
i wonder how many folks
feel colder in the summer
than the spring and fall
i just want there to be a time of year
when i don’t feel
tragically
mis-taken-care-of
by modern society
or nature
[maybe costa rica really is
the best place to be
for me]
interesting
without music
my brain only half focuses
like it does
with music with words
why does my focus only work on such
strict, specific auditory inputs?
overzealously analyzing why i’m like this
why i do [or don’t do] the things i do/do not do
but still not delving too deep
to analyze with heart not mind
overthinking/intellectualizing/brain-processing
is my curse
and i’ll cling to it until i can’t anymore
[can i bring myself to a place where i can’t anymore?]
so
here we are
trying to write while the cat
yowls her nausea
upstairs
i just want to tell her
say to her
explain to her
that this will pass
it’s just a flare-up
it will pass
[i also want to tell myself
say to me
explain in such a way that i believe
that
this will pass
it’s just a flare-up
we have the meds we need
it’s not something different
something insidious
something hidden]
[we should schedule that ultrasound]
cool
cool
make me feel worse
about myself
about my quirks/my faults/my worst
habits and have them describe my whole self
awesome
perfect
exactly what i wanted from my one close family member
left