Things haven't been alright for the longest time. Perhaps it's unrealistic to yearn for the kind of simple conviction in the integrity of the world I was only able to hold on to in my first decade and a half. I'm not clear on what I'm fighting, half the time. I've lost sight of a little, and upped the ante a lot. I've relaxed into my inbuilt resistance - the impulse to sabotage the very thing I aim towards.
I've lost my bearings today. I turned a corner in the hospital and warmed to old selves, new selves, old meets new. What the hell am I going to do?
Disturbed but still swinging
Perturbed with periods of relaxation
Investigating the core cause
Sizing up the inscrutability
Of my kaleidoscope of secrets
I find my fallibility lacking
And who are you?
The unknown reader
A hazy image of you
Becomes my inspiration
They say to write for yourself, but I'm informed by every soul that has had my mind wandering in their direction
I'm unable to stall, diligently angling for the next question