A quarter of the year gone by, and I’m still
cursing last week for bleeding
into the week before, still cursing
this brain for not bothering
to keep track of the time.
I say Things are perfect now,
for what they are, but I’m still pushing
forward blindly against tomorrow.
I say Things will be better
someday, in the future,
when things are better.
Show me the darkest path
so I can light a fire in that direction.
How can I say that I’m enough
now without stopping the will to want
more? How can I name priority
when breathing is a weightlift?
“Cloud-Clotted Mind” was a poem written during the thirty days of National Poetry Month, and was first posted on my Twitter page.