quick morning pages this morning
perhaps even without posting
until the evening
because we got shit to do
this early morn’
[though i’d love to just be
sewing — apparently that’s my vibe
when the world gets to be
too big and too frightening
just do the physical
helpful labor
you know how to do]
are these truly my only two states?
so invigorated
because of immediate trauma
and helping my community
and working so well
in crisis
and
depressed and sullen and scared
and just hunkering down
for nap after sleep after nap
until i don’t know where the years went?
i want something
in
between
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?]
i keep having ideas
good ideas
great fucking ideas
for poems
and essays
and thought pieces
when i’m on the train
when i’m out walking post-rain
when i don’t have my computer with me
and my words come faster than a notebook would suit me
so i just leave it dormant
in my head
hoping against hope
that it’ll all be there again
when i have my things/solitude/words/supplies
but it’s all lies
i know the words are there
and the concept needs to be shared
i’m just
plain
scared.
a stress
a moment before we deal
a fear
a breath, a poem, and a sip of coffee before we head out
to the emergency vet (are we familiar faces yet?)
and hope for the ‘best case scenario’
(which is still a tumor)
the problem with having a dog
who already doesn’t get excited by food
is that decreased appetite
isn’t the same shocking warning sign
as it is for other
families
if i’ve ever said
‘i love you’
i still do.
if i’ve ever told you
we should meet up for coffee
and chat the day away,
i’ve actually meant it.
if you’ve ever meant a great deal to me
you still do.
time is a mortal construction
and isn’t linear.
i don’t have
‘friendship degradation mechanics’
and if we’ve had a falling out
i’ve told you so.
if we’ve simply drifted
apart
from one another
(over time or space or experiences)
just know
i think of you often
and if you were to reach out
to me
for that coffee/chat/catchup
i’d be on top of that opportunity
in an instant
but
i don’t know how other people work,
so i don’t say ‘hey’ out of the blue
when i really mean
‘you’ve been on my mind
my whole life
and i still think of you
as you were
at 11 or 16 or 22,
but i know people grow
and i’d love to see
how you’ve grown
because you are important to me
and i love hearing you tell stories,
and debating opinions on tv shows,
and getting to see inside your soul’
because that’s
~~too much~~
for some people
(and i don’t know if that’s the direction you’ve grown
so
i play it safe
and i say
nothing.)
i want to do
something
with all these poems
posting them seems the best option
but also
i’m scared.
i’m scared of people seeing them
i’m scared of no one seeing them
i’m scared i’ll succeed
i’m scared i’ll fail
i’m scared of so many things
(when did i get so scared?)
~~~
creativity
breeds
creativity
depression
breeds
depression
just keep that in mind.
~~~
oh
when did i start writing
for me?
kipventures 