clinging and shying (periodic)

worried
for no reason?
well how do you know it's for no reason. you could be wrong. everyone could be wrong...
could be
could not
could crash
burn, misrepresent
or hide

and all of those
are not no reason.
every reason. every lack of a reason. every spinning, rough
inducing dizzy irrational mud
dissatisfied mud

for no reason?

co-protagonist (delighted)

i have found
or bumped into
or chanced upon
or been doomed to falling in
or reeled in
or pulled in
or drawn in

well how much can i say? a million things

and yet none of it would measure
or even hope to reach
the outskirts of reality

leaving out (unfit)

just lingering
orbiting

preventative
defensive

both ways
and procrastination
because without you
what is the point?

all the points are the same
might be the very same
but nothing in between

so it's my fault
or to my credit if we're lucky
boastful
less cautious
more trusting
okay no, she said.

preventative.

but I don't
deserve
didn't

and if nobody
really ought to know
then

(hopeful)

just the tiniest disappointment. but it won't go away. and this place that I'm in
I don't know why it is or what it means or how to look at it
since
this and that just aren't
easily
reconciled.
who is it
worth trusting?
not me
but maybe parts
this methodology
reactions
values
wanting and hoping and
there's always so much space beyond
and I shouldn't be afraid of it
should instead love it
smooth my ragged worrying into the ink in the pen
the graphite
untangling the questions
as it draws them one by one out of my head

patience (pendulous)

a rollercoaster is only fun because it's scary. only. fun.
only. but it is a lot of other things too, besides scary and fun, and I am trying to make this rollercoaster into a connection and a deep one, this way and that way (not that you can make rollercoasters go backwards--or can you?). there is a time for all of it. a time for the waiting for everyone else
to get on
to be trapped
to crawl slowly
and to rush
and to stop
and to ease gently back to wherever it was you started
and get off.

and that is where i am. will be. both. right now it seems slow. and the waiting and the trapped urge impatience

without that bright anticipation, the undulating rush... the dragging thrusting friction freedom

it might be worth it anyway. how can i tell?

strung curiosity

i asked what should i do and he replied do whatever you want and i smirked, if he only knew
all the things i wanted
to do
right that moment
but now in this moment
whatever you want
whatever,
but it's impossible
all the wants and that's why they are wanting
wanted
lacking
longing
just me
longing
for all the impossible things
what else is worth craving like this? to crave a doable thing
that around the corner anything
the on your doorstep normality
or any old usual turn of event thing

what would that get you?

of course wanting impossible things gets you
nowhere
either.

inner turmoil (personified)

never.
dressed in thick black, a seductively textured cloak of layered emptinesses. stolid. stoic. an illusion of warmth. never might keep you safe.

always.
just as black, but as diaphanous as breath. slick, threatening, but weightless. completely filled with an invisible temptation. always will promise you everything.

they fight. the never and the always, swirl sting dodge strike duck burn
the knife of the one so close to the other's throat
the razors of one right through every layer but the last

what-ifs
and I-can't-stand-this-much-longers
and I'll-never-be-good-enoughs

are all chasing each other around like vicious little demons

while the everything's-going-to-be-okays
and don't-worry-so-muches
and be-patients

keep trying (trying and trying, pulling and struggling) to put them back in their bottles.