I'll Send You a Quote When I'm Nervous

     Sometimes, the Golden Rule doesn't exactly work.
     In fact, I don't remember the last time it did.
     But, then again, I don't remember much.

     I am nervous today. For what, I can't be sure. I do believe it's the blasted ADHD medicine that's the culprit of my anxiety. It makes my heart race, hands tremble, arms fall numb, and stomach twist itself in knots. But, that list of ever-growing complaints is for a later post.
     Writing has always been a way to release whatever stress or worry I have. Patchwork poems, questions, one-liners, and quotes have all been scribbled along the margins of my notebooks (I used to use my phone, but my "technologically handicap" tendencies proved detrimental to my privacy). Raw, rough, and ragged. That's my writing style when I need to let something out. On days like these, however, I send approximately five people (usually ones I don't think will respond) a random quote. Then I close my eyes and pretend that someone sent me this lovely little message. No one sends me quotes, but I pretend they do by sending them. Sort of tricking my brain. But not. It's like how I put Twitter on my phone so I think people are talking to me all the time. Today's a lonely day. And it's raining. I'm in one of those moods.
     I think I'm going to go to bed. Goodnight, loves.

Whit Happens

The Old Wicker Tree

Three a.m. poetry...I'm going to bed now. When I wake up I'll call it abstract, as nothing is ever really logical at these wretched hours.

Toss your shoes
Behind the old wicker tree.
Forget your worries,
Leave your anxiety
Tucked beneath your laces.
Sink your toes
Into the soft, cool earth.
Run 'cross the dewed grass and
Release all your troubles.

Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.

Close your eyes,
See the world with your body.
Absorb the sun’s rays and
Flow with the wind
That rustles the leaves.
Let the sun melt your doubts,
The breeze swipe all suspicions.
Submerge yourself
In the gentle current waters and
Drown your uncertainties.

Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.

You tell me that
Soon enough is not fast enough.
Your clothes are sticking,
Shoulders burning,
Eyes drying,
Toes bleeding,
Personality chafing, and
Your shoes could be stolen.

Don’t act so naïve.
We’ll return soon enough.

But soon enough is never
Fast enough for you.
There is no such thing
As spare time.
Silence does not exist, and
How could it?
You have so much to do,
Your mind never rests.
Sleep is optional,
They have pills and beverages now
That force your body to be alert.
Knowledge comes from
Books alone.
Rewards are only received
When you stay in the lines,
Cross no borders,
Do what you’re told,
And work hard – nonstop.
So this is why you must go back.

Don’t grow up so fast.
Play pretend with me once more.
Feed me meals of bark and leaves,
Bring treasures on board our ship of clotheslines and sheets,
Save a damsel in distress, or
Fly to the moon.
Just don’t leave me yet.

But no. . .gather your things from
Behind the old wicker tree.
Your burdens still lie just
Beneath your laces,
Dragging you down with your
Medications,
Cups of coffee, and
Paychecks.
Was it worth it?
Eating without tasting?
Sleeping without dreaming?
Speaking without thinking?
Hearing without listening?
Breathing without living?
My dear, you’re thriving in knowledge,
But knowledge is nothing
Without wisdom.

Don’t grow up so fast.
That, love, will come sooner than you think
And you can’t go back.