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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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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A pre-dawn chill runs up my spine as the black and white cat meows at the door. Another yawn hisses out of my wide-stretched jaws. To...
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Here’s the thing, I know we haven’t done this before, or at least in a while. But fuck it, it’s worth a shot. We’re supposed to l...
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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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