As I reach the bottom
of a yet another cup of yesterday's coffee,
I begin to quiver
like a drawn arrow.
All atwitter with thought,
overclocked,
firing on all cylinders,
I set about
laying out
some eloquent dissertation on my blunted affect
or crippling self doubt
or other such complaints.
Some sympathetic story
sans self-esteem
seems to be my wheelhouse.
What if I flipped the lid and said
that I feel okay about myself?
That I'm not the worst,
and people would care if I was gone.
That I've gained
more than I've lost,
despite losing
a lot.
That I can be resilient
even if I don't realize it right away.
Would I be ill-received?
Hot
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I hope I don’t live to regret having lived. Some things are gonna suck, though, and for a long while, but never so much that “o...
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Day breaks open over the halls of men. The yolk slowly sags its way down, coating everything the light touches in a thin sheen ... -
I'd been awake far too long, but I hopped a train and went for a ride. Making all the stops along the way: A silly game of sp...
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There’s not all that much left to believe in anymore. For some time I thought it was me being jaded. Then I took a look around and ...
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Even a blind hog finds a truffle every now and then. That's what the little voice tells me. After I string together a word o...
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If winds blew west If rivers flowed up hills If I had not been so blessed If I didn’t need these pills
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At the bottom of this cup of coffee, I see reflected in the dregs my schlubby mug. Unshaven and saggy-eyed, I look as if I have...
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