September 14, 2022

when i show friends
these words
there is an unspoken trust
and an irrational fear

the trust is to read
the fear is that they
have read

but the fear is also
of breaking of trust
that i am still somehow
too much
and not enough
too many poems
not enough time
in our society
that has no reason or rhyme
for when you’re allowed to just sit
and ponder poetry
and when you have to be hustling
because with self-care culture
relaxation has become another side hustle
and being in the moment
is simply a competition
to see who does it
‘right’

but i digress
and am getting ahead of myself
(or really, beside,
because i’m not sure where this poem
was trying to align itself
to begin with)

whenever i show
a friend
a loved one
this here poetry blog
i am both terrified
that they’ll read it
and terrified
that they won’t

maybe i should publish
the first year
just so new folks
have context
for the rest of this
craziness

September 13, 2022

the upset-est belly
the cutest puppy
i’m hitting the existential crises
of why bother with poetry

(how was i so invigorated
just yesterday?)

~~~

the depression
hits
out of the blue

where yesterday
was a pretty good day
and i felt neutral
(if not actually happy maybe)

today, every little inconvenience
is a sign from the universe
telling me to give up/
every moment of waking
is one where i’m wishing i’m sleeping/
and the feeling i can label appearing on my face
can only be described as “dourness”

how am i so susceptible to little fits of depression
all while distancing/dissociating myself so well
from all my [other] emotions?

~~~

explore
the emotion
of depression

[i don’t want to—
it’s not a clean feeling—
it’s messy and
it gets everywhere,
sticky in places you didn’t even see it spill to,
but when you aren’t looking
aren’t expecting it
there it is again
and you can’t even reach that place
to fully get it
out]

September 11, 2022

when trees
sway
[unnaturally] up and
down

my mind still speeds straight
to costa rica
and expects little back-and-white monkeys
to be playing
chattering
jumping
from tree to tree

even up here in the bronx
my first thought is never
the black and grey squirrels we have everywhere
my hope
is first
that we’ve somehow found ourselves
back
in paradise…

September 10, 2022

will i ever write
anything as honest
in the daylight hours
as i do near midnight
just before
sleep
takes me?

~~~

meditate
on the self
to escape from
the pressures
of the other

(but don’t blame the people–
they’re just trying to survive
just like you–
but how do we escape the systems
that are built
to trap,
hinder,
distance,
and depress
?)

~~~

how well do you know yourself
and your patterns
of self-sabotage?

~~~

these poems are starting to sound
a little angsty
but i swear i’m not in
a teen mood™ —
i’m just trying to find my footing
for a morning
after a morning
away

~~~

i have enough poetry
to always have something new
to slight-of-hand any reader
into thinking
i never miss a day
of writing

but i’m too honest for that jazz
so here i am
keeping my streak
but also writing poems
about skipping days
and i don’t know what that says
about me

(and if i should be thinking about that
anyways)

~~~

interesting
watching oneself
write poetry–
a line i thought
would negate/lessen
the last line
makes it feel
so much fuller
than before

i suppose that’s why i’m out here
writing poetry
every day
for 500+ days
as opposed to
studying
and analyzing
and obsessing
and perfecting
a thing
that comes
from the heart

[perhaps i should take that into account
in other aspects
of my life…]

September 8, 2022

the puppy
and the cat
are not mortal enemies

they may, in fact
simply be
frenemies

(though,
perhaps
that’s all from the cat’s
perspective

the puppy
100% believes
they’re besties

or at least could/should be.)

September 6, 2022

there is a house plant
i was certain was dead
so i tucked it outside
just to get the sadness out of my head

but the plant,
with natural sun and rainwater grew
from the tiniest sickly shrivel
to four full leaves popping through

that isn’t to say
the outside is always a sanctuary
(our peach tree and hydrangea
can attest to that theory)

but i suppose what’s here,
the moral to this story and the full truth,
is that sometimes all you really need
is naturally occurring on our Mother Earth

September 5, 2022

how do i have
so much energy in my mind
to overthink and overanalyze
and ponder every possible situation
and make guesses at past and present and future
and enough energy in my body
to speedwalk past the average New Yorker
take multiple circus classes a day
stretch and handstand and run after trains
but emotionally
i’ve been out of energy
since i was at least thirteen?