the process of letting go looks like a three year old learning how to share
laughable frustration with a good dose or two of irrepressible rage,
swung from loose fists and an angry throat heaving

chants of ‘mine, mine, mine’

what do i gain through solitary play?
hunched shoulders, a cave for a body

hoarded past resentments
keep overcrowded closets.

the only thing i feel is heavy

weighted ribs

the lowliness of loneliness.

i wonder at the thoughts my head kicks up,
at their sharpness and depth and ability to completely restart me

was i made for other people? were people meant for me?

existing cohabitating melding mixing blending…

am i the oil to the world’s water?


This entry was published on January 25, 2013 at 12:40 pm and is filed under creative conversation, creativity, emotions and stuff, head trips, life and living, life lately, life lessons, poetry, questions, rambles and writing, relationship dissections, weird, words, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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