A Desire to Wake.

I took a year off.




Now, write.

Now, speak.



Now,




where was I?




Dreaming, sleeping, wondering.

The world flowed around my body and I waded through it. The water, the mud, the time, the sun. I let my heart swell, I let my stomach swell, I let my anger fade and I let my hope come into focus. I saw, maybe not the future, but a future. I saw, maybe not the truth, but my truth. I saw, maybe not the world, but a world I occupied, a world I wanted, a world I deserved. Breath in my lungs. Pulse in my veins. A desire to wake.


A worry flits through the air.

I won't live up to my character.

I won't create.

I won't speak the truth.



A worry flits through the air.

It doesn't matter whether I do.



A worry flits through the air.

My validity is my suffering.

And I am invalid.



A worry flits through the air.

It doesn't matter if I am.



I watch you move through the living room. Hips and smile. Eyes bright and true. I am ashamed of myself. Who I am, no no no, what I am. How undeserving.

You walk and speak, and touch, and carry and I am ashamed.




A worry flits through the air




and is gone.





You speak and touch. Eyes, bright and true.





A desire to wake.


Breath in my lungs. Pulse in my veins.


A desire to wake.


You walk and speak.


A desire to wake.




How undeserving.