cyclical

I worked…

              and worked one

so young so long so much

scrimping saving doing…

               without

he bought my youth

with nickels and dimes

divorce and drifting…

                more than surviving 

eating laughing connecting

doing things going places 

I dreamt myself into a

segue of pursing knowing 

scrimping saving doing…

               without 

one, two, three, four, five 

jobs I juggled if I needed 

               

back into the grind of two

one to get by one…

if I wanted I worked more

              and I got 

sick tired exhausted 

I dreamt myself into

to the joy of none

scrimping saving doing…

               without

pictures of me

 micellar water, no lotion 

Lines

dry shampoo,, no water 

Gray

fistfuls of ether

in a place where I can’t breathe 

the weight of nothingness 

reaching in overlong, reaching out

gasping, grasping air in huge gulps 

fistfuls of ether dissipating 

eroding into a half-lit dark

everything is damp, cold with it;

flesh, cloth, moisture-clouded glass

lungs; things grow in crevices here

in the place where I can’t breathe 

22 years

tomorrow will be 22 years since you’ve been gone:

I wonder how you would have aged.

where would you be in the world, where would I?

could the world have been different?

or was your passing a fixed event, destined?

does life unfold the only way it can? 

could? has? will?  

Yup

Ikigai eludes me, fleeting 

on the peripheral, floating 

then suddenly wet grass and dirt

fur on the tile, blanket, shirt

waking to walk then walking

again and again and again 

busy-work

One of my earliest memories was my dad saying “up and at it” and “get’er done”. I’m talking early grade school. Definitely sometime between 3rd and 6th grade.

I can’t be the only person my age who had too much time to think while walking home from school that young, growing up too fast. 

So I’ve never been good at waiting or leaving things up to others, especially if  I think I’m not a priority to them. I’ve always preferred to do things myself, depend on myself, and own my mistakes when I make them.

It’s uncomfortable and overwhelming to depend on others, on someone else's judgement and determinations, excuses for inaction. 

It’s uncomfortable and overwhelming to exist in limbo, waiting, filling time with busy-work.