An old piece
I recently got a new phone and it restored from an old back up, from a phone that I had 3 years ago.
I found some writing on it.
I think I forget sometimes that I’m vaguely talented at something. So here it is. What I used to write like.
The water drips down the window.
How do we find that poetic?
Never mind the drama we’re consumed with,
all the ‘facts’ we assume with.
How very human.
What a dreadful condition.
The rain causes emotions,
God knows why,
Simple water makes us weep,
But the miracle of living and we don’t cry.
Again and again we take leaps,
Of faith, and in kindness
We make ourselves cheap.
But it doesn’t make you weak.
Just wait and see.
We put words into lines, and lines onto paper,
Does it matter?
And what about the latter.
But it doesn’t make the pain lessen,
How have we not yet learned our lesson?
We need to feel less, care less,
I’m a goddamn fucking mess.