Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Imposture

Can’t keep up,

can’t back down –

Speak optimistically

internally I frown

because maybe I’m doing too much,

though it feels I do little;

As such,

I quickly lose focus

and get to feeling quite bogus.

All of this feels…wrong

I feel like I just don’t belong:

Not even wanting to fit in

I just want to celebrate

my small wins…

Instead of beating myself up for

not conquering the entire mountain.

Scaling for score;

Still feeling there should be more.

Either something’s missing

Or I’m missing something.

Trade tears

For fears

I’m posturing

to hide my bad posture…

Tripping over self-doubt

Self-confidence won’t

come into the out.

I can’t figure out why

I kill myself

hoping to die…

In competition with only me,

shadows are always hard to see.

I’ve nothing to prove

to anyone’s roster –

incessant syndrome on the move.

One day, maybe,

I’ll feel less of an

impostor.

October 4, 2020

Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Fire With Fire

I lit my lighter
to fight fire with fire…
Only the cherries
remain extinguished
and I struggle
to distinguish
between fear, fantasy, and fun –
and the reality I
seek solace from.

Can’t hide forever,
wish though that I never
encountered the anti-good,
destroyer of innocence
ruination of childhood.

If only
my thoughts would stop
their uncouth amalgam of flop,
if I could just get past
my present
where it teeters on the cusp
of future life, barely within grasp –

Then I’d never have memories
of worry and strife;
Then again, I’d never
have discovered the pleasures
of life.

Still, what I wouldn’t willingly give
to detach from knowing
and knowledge
and to simply just

Live.

Posted in Forgotten writings, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Tone-Deaf in Continuum

Highly intense,
and so much more awkward;
lapses in social skills and judgments
results of consistent self-isolation
from being ostracized
in public space…

Because, never give them the opportunity to do it for you…

Time spent in my own mental
space
stripping me of the ability
to properly converse
with other persons of being…

writing all my conversations
with myself
into continuum –

Those who’d talk to me
soon quickly found
I’m conversationally tone-deaf,
either too intensely enthused
over things that didn’t matter to them,
or awkwardly-anxiously bumbling along,
self-conscious odd silences
interspersed with diluted outbursts –
just trying to keep up
with ebbs, flows, and full stops.

Afterward, obsessively replaying,
unending cinematic
repetition –
Visions that torture the consciousness
and made me wonder what else
I could’ve said, at the time…

Never once,
did I ever [stop to] consider
my partner(s) in these discussions
might have been experiencing
the same doubts, notions,
and internal confusions
as I.

And even today,
I sometimes still struggle
to articulate,
even with all my words
and colorful profusion of expression
I still feel always
that I’m missing
some critical element.

 

 

 

04 September 2019
Posted in Forgotten writings, New Work, Random

Wavelengths

It seems like the more I align with myself and move my life in what I know to be the right direction, the more people [think: family + some friends] think I am pulling away from them.

And honestly, maybe I am…we all have our own [life] paths to travel, and as I grow, I’ll continue to draw people and energies into my life that are on similar levels – unfortunately, that doesn’t leave much room for those not on the same wavelength.

 

 

27 August 2019
Posted in New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth, Thoughts and Ruminations

Used-Tos (Next Episode)

I have some trouble

telling people all my “used-tos,”

It leads down this rabbit hole

of more things

I used to do, think, be, say, see.

And it seems like

I have issues,

but honestly, they’re more like

Editions…

every one more distinct than its predecessor,

and each

a different minefield

to navigate.

I used to fear judgment,

But now,

I wait patiently

for the next episode;

Life is an unending season.

Posted in New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Rough Draft

I love all the
squiggles, scratches,
scrawls, scribbles
carets and paragraph marks
unexpected brackets, write-overs, and random
annotations
that swirl boldly through
most of my handwritten work.

They all highlight mistakes,
yet also remind
how quickly the mind
moves
to make sense of
all its random, unordered chaos
and then
create art
from it.

Inspiration tames madness;

I keep all my rough drafts.

 

15 October 2019