I think I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, but I honestly couldn't tell you what
I spend a lot of time weight lifting these days
Grinding down to soreness once a day
Trying to make up for lost time and more as I prepare for future seasons and recount my surgery
Sometimes an icebreaker and always a show-and-tell
There's this metal ball that's out of place on my collar bone that feels funny to the touch
And I've been trying to work on my problem with physical boundaries
It's called Exposure Therapy
So I've been letting people poke it with sticks and stuff lately
And I've really picked back up on my reading
A craving for black ink on numerous pages that my mind harbored
But couldn't quite put a finger to
And I've been sleeping a lot better
Much, much better since I've been out of my dorm room
No longer kept up all night hearing my roommates heart
Beating only feet away from me
And the Easterlies and Westerlies that flow into his nostrils and inflate his chest
And circulate within his mind and body and blood
His own reality
His world
Fueling his dreams and replenishing his much more lustful
Much more youthful cells than my own
Before flowing out again into campus routinely patrolled under white speckled night
Under blankets of rain and fractal flashes of lightning
Seasons have changed
April has rung itself dry once more
I've been writing a lot less these days
Pen never quite making it to paper
Or finger to plastic key
Words and thoughts always caught like dragonflies in childhood mason jars
I always try to poke holes in the top and arrange neat leafy little branches
To make their brief stations a bit more homely
And I set them in stacks on my night stand
Making room for them as I brush off all my trinkets and keepsakes
From those long months I spent back at university
Waking to empty vessels some times
And lifeless carapaces others
Come morning
And I don't have the slightest idea what I'm going to do today
But know that I'm happy
Things are good
And I'm okay
And that's all anyone can ever really ask for
I spend a lot of time weight lifting these days
Grinding down to soreness once a day
Trying to make up for lost time and more as I prepare for future seasons and recount my surgery
Sometimes an icebreaker and always a show-and-tell
There's this metal ball that's out of place on my collar bone that feels funny to the touch
And I've been trying to work on my problem with physical boundaries
It's called Exposure Therapy
So I've been letting people poke it with sticks and stuff lately
And I've really picked back up on my reading
A craving for black ink on numerous pages that my mind harbored
But couldn't quite put a finger to
And I've been sleeping a lot better
Much, much better since I've been out of my dorm room
No longer kept up all night hearing my roommates heart
Beating only feet away from me
And the Easterlies and Westerlies that flow into his nostrils and inflate his chest
And circulate within his mind and body and blood
His own reality
His world
Fueling his dreams and replenishing his much more lustful
Much more youthful cells than my own
Before flowing out again into campus routinely patrolled under white speckled night
Under blankets of rain and fractal flashes of lightning
Seasons have changed
April has rung itself dry once more
I've been writing a lot less these days
Pen never quite making it to paper
Or finger to plastic key
Words and thoughts always caught like dragonflies in childhood mason jars
I always try to poke holes in the top and arrange neat leafy little branches
To make their brief stations a bit more homely
And I set them in stacks on my night stand
Making room for them as I brush off all my trinkets and keepsakes
From those long months I spent back at university
Waking to empty vessels some times
And lifeless carapaces others
Come morning
And I don't have the slightest idea what I'm going to do today
But know that I'm happy
Things are good
And I'm okay
And that's all anyone can ever really ask for
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