a late February epiphany

a familiar feeling and a note for those reading

I am coming alive again

Gasping for air as if buried underground;
buried inside myself for protection

but I forgot to leave myself a way to breathe;
a way back out

I left myself clawing and reaching
for life 6 feet out of reach

I knew it was there—
could feel its vibrations, barely
could hear its chatter, muffled
but struggled to find my way to it

Strength and resolve weakened,
heart barely beating,
I burst from beneath and claim my life as mine

Wrested from the weary,
I declare my power restored.

right now, i’m hoping to toss some poems over here as i write them, without judgement. maybe a mini essay or stream-of-consciousness piece with some sort of regular cadence. i’ve found that saying that i’m going to do something on some semblance of a schedule tends to fizzle out pretty quickly, so commitment and proclamation don’t feel like the proper avenues at the moment.

writing to an audience— which is what i feel pressured to do here— feels a little uncomfortable and contrived when i sit down with that intention. so i’m trying to figure out what works. or what mindset i have to put myself in to be able to write to an audience. or maybe i’ll pretend that you’re not there at all and just write something and leave it to be read without the fear of someone liking or understanding or resonating with what i’ve left for them.

i’m on a journey. again. still. to figure out what i want out of life and figure out what life wants from me. i hope not to get too distracted along the way. again.

we’ll see what happens.