zandila

Alright, the first taste of my poetry...

I thought
for a minute there
that I was free
now that X is gone
that my baggage would disappear in his footsteps
silly, the notions I've entertained
Now! Just this second...
feel it with me
I am LOST
again...
fuck

I thought I had this life all figured out
neat on my charts
(that I claim not to use yet follow ruthlessly
diligent labeler)
I do this to myself
this tug-of-war
what I am
should be
was and will be
all shadows
ghosts
fucking demons
pulling dreamvisions of reality
through my skull
fragile skull that it is
this uncertainty...
can I take it?
capture it and force it to make sense?
or accept it
as one of the calamitous
magnificent
side effects of being human?