I was stuck in those quiet moments of alone-ness
realizing that what I was trying to articulate my days
instead of living them
and that I wasn't trying to write what I know,
but what I didn't know
and in these moments I am anxiety recollected in tranquility
or possibly tranquility recollected in anxiety
but I'm still me
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Acorns
Every day I walk past the magnolia tree
and past the skinny orange cat that hangs out around The Library
and I hear the crunch of acorns beneath my feet
I fight the blues
while thinking about the little lights inside of myself
and I wish I would have stayed home
and as I jump over this black hole
I hope that when I land
I will hear the crunch of acorns beneath my feet
and past the skinny orange cat that hangs out around The Library
and I hear the crunch of acorns beneath my feet
I fight the blues
while thinking about the little lights inside of myself
and I wish I would have stayed home
and as I jump over this black hole
I hope that when I land
I will hear the crunch of acorns beneath my feet
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