my morning poetry feels both so unimportant
and even more important
for these four weeks
unimportant
in the grand scheme of things
but important
to keep my word
to myself
and continue this challenge
amongst so many other challenges
because i am nothing if not
a stubborn little goose
i’ve ignored the outside
for too long
for not long enough
it’s still impacting me
it’s still making its way inside
what’s wrong with living a life
pretending
all of humanity
is actually
kind?
[can “fake it till you make it”
apply to expectations
of others?]
waking moments
still stuck in dreams
trying to keep track of
what is reality
and what might not be
and what makes sense to me
is that there is not any one solid answer
it’s all just chemical reactions and brain synapses
trying to make sense of a world that just
doesn’t
kipventures 