Thursday, 31 July 2025

Wiggle Room

 

It took me a while to wipe off this quicksand. 

Yesterday, waking up felt like a chore, 

Each sunrise demanding a new veil to wear, 

A new bridge to cross, a new bird to kill, 

Killing  to draw the straightest circle.

What kept me grounded- 

My infinite checklist of errands, my bottle of tears, 

My own little Animal Farm. 

But when I weave twenty years into a single day, 

My arms feel light and supple, 

legs strong enough to wade through the monster’s drool,

So I hope you may see-

That in my giant cauldron of expectations,  

The desire to know it all slowly simmers, 

And burns, and fades into dust-

I am not the Jack of all trades but the master of one.

 

I do like the sugar rush and spilling out of the hourglass,

And out of my cauldron, out of this filthy quicksand.

Outside textbooks, it's always a zero sum game, 

Where the skies don't have room for all of us,

Where the kindest man is last in line.

I hope you see the chalk lines I drew, 

Between spirited and slutty, 

Between a friend and a fool, 

Between words and feelings, 

And outside my heart and home. 

A phoenix rising is cliche,

So now, you deal with me. 

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