What Do I Want?

This poem was written on a Saturday morning on my deck | Summer 2025

What is it- what do I want!? Days of rigid patterns and process- gloming for realities that daunt.

It’s a blueprint that feels created with permanent ink. Red-lined and overwhelmed by fear, and being weak.

My body is aching inside and in my head. Pings and zings, dull aches to remind me I’m not yet dead.