the thing about trying is, it makes you give a shit about shit you shouldn’t give a shit about.
i know. i tried before.
no one likes to talk about their past.
the mistakes. the regrets. the people we’ve hurt.
it’s all the same pattern of forced apathy.
i say i don’t care but i twist my gut every time i think about it. anything.
and we’re told to hang on to hope. but she doesn’t give a shit either.
she lies. we dance. we break our ankles and do it all over again.
the worst people try wickedly hard not to die. everything. they’ll do everything.
but it’s all for show.
you see, we all are going to die. if you fear not, you live. if you fear the thing, you keep trying to make sense of things.
and questions go unanswered. puzzles remain mysteries.
hope becomes misery.
we want to know the meaning of life. every day.
if i think happy thoughts then i’ll be happy, an example.
if i try hard enough this pain will go away.
yet no one questions where the pain comes from. or where the sadness comes from.
or why we’re here in this life with such dramatic emotions consuming our existence every day.
at all times.
we try.
we have to give a shit about what’s going on inside. regardless of the world outside.
that’s the focus.
cut the noise even though everybody wants us to give a shit about them when we really need to bring it home. bring it inside.
every kids thinks they have the right to play with the toys just because they’re there. not today, skipper.
keep your shit for yourself. take care of your shit for you.
there isn’t anyone who can wash your insides. even if you pay a lot of money to a healer, they only put your toys on the other side of the room.
there is pattern amidst the chaos if you let it stay chaotic for a while.
what seems wild is often the only tame process. like staring into the sun.
hope is destructive to a soul without a reflection.
we let go of trying. we sit. we can wander back to ourselves.
the one who strayed.
i think i would find myself on a tall hill, covered in grass. a warm, lifting breeze smothers me up.
it’ll have been quite lonely up there. waiting.
but finally i can say how lovely and how nice it is up here.
-
Recent Posts
- it’s quiet now that i’ve opened my eyes November 10, 2023
- don’t mistake my grimace for a smile October 27, 2023
- not because i said so October 27, 2023
- A little dose of gratitude April 26, 2023
- im not good at love poems December 23, 2021
Archives
Poems
Instagram
No Instagram images were found.