I am not a straight line
I am crooked
I am curved
I am queer
Please, do not try to measure me
Please, do not waste your energy
On such a tiny being such as I
I do not fit, I know I do not fit
It isn't worth your time --
(Nor mine, yet still I try) --
To find a place, a spot for me
I am but a dot on a blade of grass
In acres and acres of field
Do not bother --
Do not waste your time with me
I am not anything the future will see.
Sometimes there is so much to love
that it hurts.
Like a hole, waiting to be emptied as it's being filled.
That preemptive pain; anticipation of loss.
But those words are too big to quite describe this --
Footprints of tourists painting the sand,
The cries of the ocean berating the land.
Chappell Roan and milestones,
Informing the world we aren’t fighting alone.
Ten teenagers talking til the old year gives way,
The screen in my window’s still down —
no wonder it’s so cold up here.
You’d think I’d know better, a house this old, this time of year.
And here I thought I shivered for the stress,
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.