sometimes

hey this is a good one guys. really good one. how is everyone? i hope you’re well.

i’m well. writing ebbs and flows inside me and i am totally satisfied with that. i think this poem shows that.

the opening line seems negative, but i have 7 poems in my ‘to be posted’ folder. so don’t fret. but sometimes gifts feel like burdens when you’re silly. (i’m a bit silly sometimes).

i like this one extra because it doesn’t scream ‘i love anna karenina’ as much as some of my other stuff does. not that that’s bad.

song: time above the earth - the kooks

sometimes i don’t want to write poems anymore.

i wish words didn’t plague my

mind

in the middle of maths,

that i wasn’t so heavy with the

weight of what i wish could be heard.

sometimes i don’t want to write.

i want to not understand,

and i want to laugh and find it funny.

i rub my eyes and stretch,

soft cotton of my top pulling

against the cush of my stomach.

i rub my eyes, my unseeing eyes,

and thread fingers through my hair.

so much is on my mind.

i want to feel it, rather than know it.

i think endlessly of stars

and endless moments

and endless pages of

the story i write in my mind.

i think of the moments and thoughts

that act like breath to the drowned woman of my mind;

i think of the way that the more i cling to them,

the faster they run from me.