Scribbled Thoughts

Dawn stained the sky

chasing away the peace of night

and summoning the noise

of life and responsibility.

Stumble awake and join them

or be left behind

and forgotten.

Bleed out,

anticipate a year away

as your life seeps

between bloodless fingers

straining to contain

what you can

and prolong your meaning

just a little longer.

Tally another year

to your life

and celebrate the day

to make it feel special,

just like everyone else.

Treat yourself to materials

and consumables,

entertain with preferences

to satisfy the

passing of your time.

Grateful or regretful?

Either way

it has come.

Set a challenge

to push yourself

into action.

Motivate what should

already be second-nature,

self-preservation,

an anticipated activity

you have pushed aside

for the mundane

and uninspired.

Remember the feel

of creation,

the breath of paper,

the conjuring of life

with ink

that pulls you away

and makes you

who you are.

My insides are

melted chocolate

thick and stained

but enticing,

delicious,

worth the calories.

Save my details,

so at least

the screen

remembers me,

feels I’m important

and is waiting

for my return.

Let the fresh air

kiss your cheeks

and bask in your existence,

sprinkle inspiration

and pass it around,

flowing from moment to moment

until everything

is connected.

Rely on me,

bleed me dry,

work me to exhaustion

when you have the need.

Then, when the crisis is over,

pin me with all mistakes,

whisper and ridicule

gloating that I’m not wanted.

Why do I let this happen?

Why am I less than nothing?

Pull on a uniform

one week later

and feel your

individuality

slip away,

your personality

shut down,

your soul

screaming

where no one

can hear you.

Picturing these scenic moments

in the future,

guiding a smaller younger me and you,

teaching them the delights

of the sea,

the magic of the woods,

the thrill of fresh foods.

It almost seems real,

it almost seems possible

that we might be

good at it.