do i really
truly
actually
need someone to tell me what to do with my life?
[especially because, when told, i struggle being beholden to other people
and end up resisting every step of the way]
why does my brain make no sense to me?
do i really
truly
actually
need someone to tell me what to do with my life?
[especially because, when told, i struggle being beholden to other people
and end up resisting every step of the way]
why does my brain make no sense to me?
the heart wants
what the heart wants
but the brain and body can be
so
suspicious
lazy
resistant
ennui-ed
[a poem about why i’ve wanted to sew
for literal months
but haven’t done a stitch]