if I can't think what
the problem can be
well, then it just has
to be me!

even if no problem at all
imagination jumps in
kicks me right in the shins
from there a mountain will grow
out of a tiny mole hill, oh woe!

I know this is something I do
I remind myself it's nothing new
yet my senses seem to dislodge
finding ways to my own sabotage.

it's deep in my heart and my mind
a solution I'd sure love to find
to a problem that this time I know
is definitely me...without doubt.

Some people claim that special intuition
to know another person's thoughts and mind.
I do not.

I did not read her like a book, so I read her like a poem.
Her words did not arrange a neat picture of who she was.
So I listened.
I felt
and I paused
straining to hear every moment.
Envisioning.
I reflected, then I listened some more.

I saw patterns repeated,
the strain
and the wince
and I tested hire they felt on my own face

After learning a bit of backstory I flipped back through
what she had said and let the context take effect.

I saw stanzas, couplets, and rhythm

I did not analyze,
I felt,
Hearing her song-story.

I might be wrong.  I might have projected too much of myself, or glanced over a detail.

I can not recite her story or show you her heart,
but I listened to her poem and that is all that I can do.

Have you ever thought that
the weight on your back
might be never-used wings?

Something is stirring inside me.
It urges me,
Surging through
Nagging me.
move, grow, fight, dance.
I miss the quiet and yet
I dread it.
Right now I can not **** nor calm this yearning
And yet I am afraid it will die a natural death before long.

One
Two
Three
Four
Se conds of your life just passed
Five
Six
Se ven
Eight
Did you think that this could last?