vpoet, re:

held myself up by propping on you for a bit,
but now you’re half buried

mom, i
thank you
for all you’ve done
with only so much as an ask–
or none.

‘tween the trees, this
taper-tipped owl sits,
perched to speak to
they who listen/know
the tale of solitude,
in call that they may
forget such times exist.

I remember maturity was,
When I wasn’t, the ability to
Remove ourselves from ageist expectations.
We held strong to who we
Thought we were not to be–
We became images of
Future regret, anxiety, calls for help;
We became our own type of normal.

I opened my eyes to where
I am now;
No one told me I would be here, but I find myself
Here.
Your main purpose in this world is not to be successful at something you don’t love. Your main purpose in this world is to be a warning to those who give up their dreams/hang up their pen,
Forgetting who they are for
What they are.

Doing (yes, in actions) what I feel is being asked
Before I think about not doing so.

Not to say that I do not pause, understand
The request, and then perform the action.

When actions are muted
By the thoughts in my head–
When my hand seems like a river,
Stretching out to splash on _anything_,
To be guided by _anything_ other than
By the thoughts in my head.

And, lo, in the halls and on the grazing grounds
Of corporate America, the hipsters meander about,
Oblivious to the judgements made on their choice of fads