Still me

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

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