sitting here
at my brother's desk
with a backache
and a hot mess
of tension
in my belly
my body molded
into his couch
i would be
inclined to say
life has been
unfair

no money
to speak of
no home
but what i'm
allowed
i can only say
that this
is where i wanted
to be

the problem was
i was too busy
thinking
and forgot
to do something

i forget a lot
of things
like opening my mouth
like seeing
what's around me
and that's no one's
fault
but mine

i have few virtues
and not much
ambition
but to be better
tomorrow
and i'm sure
it's not
enough

certain people
don't like what
i've written
about them

i'm not sorry
i wrote them
just that
i didn't
say something
sooner
but as i've said
i have trouble
with the spoken word

now sitting here
thinking about what
i've said and done
or haven't
i see the problem

so used to getting
hurt
used to
being lied to
used to
being used to things
i tied my heart
into knot
which i forgot
to untie
and put cement shoes
on it
and sent it
to the bottom
of ocean
in my head

now i'm treading
water
gasping
for every last bit
of precious air
and fear
that i
haven't felt
since i was
a child
has gripped me
in a sensual
embrace
and is leading me
to shore

now
that old song
is playing in my head
(you know the one)
and i can honestly
say
that this setback
is what i needed
to get on track

now
i spend more time
feeling
and less time
thinking
and i have
the vision of the slave
who can only look
towards freedom

this is my time
to be true
this is my place
to be real
this is the space
i can finally see
me

this is my first

poem