as I tell myself, "just start"
my eyes become heavier
and my heart harder to carry
it seems that there isn't anywhere
I can begin
I stroll around
with confetti in my left hand
goals in my right hand
fascination outward
chaos inside
I feel like that newspaper hitting
that tall post that anybody would try and
avoid
but I
I bump into it with conviction
and I let the hard wind hit me
the kiosk is filled with faded words today
things gone and have departed
it's full of old stuff nobody says anymore
but it's still well standing
waiting for a visitor
I hope it's glad that today
it's me
I think about
you and me
we could be mad representations
of geography
we tell ourselves stories and
ignore the media to live in books
sometimes it feels like we're there
but we're really just...here
no, we don't represent geography
we cheat it
we exist in two places
here & there
we're all standing in this world for something
I remember all
but all is only this to me
and that might just be a thought
for a good start
*
