…about letting go recently. When I write stuff that’s cathartic, I don’t care too much about its form, just its emotion and point. Perhaps some day, I’ll get all fussy about form when I’m doing cathartic poetry…? Prolly not though. I think it aptly states what I’ve been feeling for the better part of a year now about one man or another and about what I see myself doing. The wistfulness gets clingy basically and I find myself feeling lots of tension about stuff. I find myself thinking about getting attention instead of attending to myself or being with whom is there right now fully. I’m doing my best to let go and be present instead of living that pattern of behavior and internal processes. When I let go, when I love without the condition that I get any attention from someone at all, I feel so much more peaceful. Here’s the poem. I think it’s awkward. Which is how I feel a lot of times about this whole emotional dilemma. I am sure that sooner or later a grace will fill me about loving and so graceful poetry will come. Just now what we’ve got is awkward:


I am not me,
I am not me when I see
love in me,
I lose me it seems…

I walk away,
I walk away to keep me
loving me,
Until I’m ready you see…

Soon or late,
ready I’ll be
When a sweet Date for tea,
grows on me.

Now fare you well
Till then, be just friend
and please come oft for tea…

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