no
no
it’s not
2025
just yet
don’t write it
don’t fret
don’t worry
quite yet
[how did i know, though?
how did i know?]
[was it just the association
with ‘project 2025’?
or did i have a view
into that future
year
and know
it would be a shit show
even before it
began?]
away from the physical activity
that brings me joy
that saved my life
in more ways than i probably even know
prevented
by pandemic
by fear
by perfectionism
by injury
by overuse
by depression
and i just can’t seem to catch a break
though i’m trying so hard
to take a break
take a break
take a break
so i can get back to it
maybe
again
with the love
and passion
and joy
that i once found
i feel bad
for the super creepy spiders
who show up in our house
because i’m so terrified
i just can’t abide
merely having them around
but they didn’t do anything
other than exist in the space i decided
to call my home
it becomes the question of
whether my comfort indicates
another creature’s right to exist
is null and void…
how did we get to a place
that this is happening
all over the planet
with people against people
[and how much of that phobia
is simply manufactured
through hate]
i wish i knew
exactly what my body needs.
like, is it consistent sleep?
[if it is, then why won’t it let me rest?]
is it a full, balanced meal?
[if it is, why do i get nauseous half the time
looking at food that isn’t a
comfort?]
is it socialization
and people and
connecting?
[if it is, why must my nervous system
react so poorly whenever i’m around
anyone anyone anyone?]
is it something new that i haven’t even thought of yet?
[if it is, why am i so scared to do
anything?]
other people take things for granted
by expecting them to be there
with no active effort
my taking something for granted
is expecting it to be there
with no active fear
getting up the gumption to ask for something
even if you’re completely ok with the answer being no
is the scariest thing
[or
am i more afraid
of the answer being
yes?]
the wind howling all night
rain smack splat thwacking the windows —
the puppy and i, unable to rest our eyes,
for hoping the terror in the night
is just nature knocking a little too forcefully
on our door
[but fear it is something more];
staring into the darkness
hoping to see a clue being borne,
hoping to see the end of the storm —
unable, we slink to a different bedroom
a smaller, cozier, stiffer bedroom
thank goodness for a guest bed, one where i can
fall asleep
but i wish wish wish
it could be a bed
where i stay
a
sleep
all night
all night
alas, alack,
’tis not to be
[but at least sleep caught up with the puppy]
keep going
keep running
someday
you’ll outrun
the pain
and the memories
and the flashbacks
and the reminders
and when you’ve finally gotten far enough away
then
and only then
can you fully feel the feelings without fear
(at least that’s what i hear)
my fear
is so loud
that i’ll write about something
i don’t understand
and offend
or embarrass
[others/myself in that order]
and rather than trying
and learning
i hide
and hide harder
and hide longer
and hide farther into myself
just wanting
wanting
wanting
to write
but never doing any of it in sight.
bring the fear
down
trust in the
universe
will we be
happier?
will we be
better?
kipventures 