plan a.
1. take each day one step at a time.
2. find a college and go there.
3. take each day one step at a time.
4. get a job and pay off your student debt.
5. live a life that you're afraid of.

plan b.
1. take up bicycling.
2. get a job and bicycle to it.
3. make money at the job.
4. save the money.
5. don't buy a car with the money.

plan c.
1. offer your services doing lawn care.
2. suffer all winter when you can't do lawn care.
3. take care of a lot of lawns in the spring.
4. make friends with lots of lawn owners.
5. use your connections to full advantage.

plan d.
1. sell your cd collection on ebay.
2. get a tattoo of a cassette tape.
3. invest in a pile of used vinyl.
4. work as a waitress.
5. save tips for concerts.

plan e.
1. hop on a greyhound bus.
2. go to whichever city the wind takes you.
3. take polaroid pictures of the city.
4. sell them to tourists.
5. starve to death.

plan f.
1. give up.
2. scrap that and try again.
3. because you're not a quitter.
4. and quitting at life.
5. was never an option.

plan g.
1. go to beauty school.
2. make people feel pretty.
3. go home and feel less ugly yourself.
4. donate money to charity.
5. hope that karma pays you back.

plan h.
1. pack up with your friends.
2. move to alaska.
3. work over the internet.
4. grow vegetables to offset the cost of hot tea and alcohol.
5. find something to love.

*(and just think how all of
these plans could be done in
one lifetime and how it takes
that many misses to find the hit
i'll give you a hint the thing you
have to learn to love is the one
thing that stayed with you
every step of the way.)

tomorrow is
sure to come

tomorrow is
sure to come

and if i were dead
instead of watching
this cold sun rise
it would still be rising

because time
marches on
with or
without me

and i'm holding on to
one last shred of hope
that i can hang onto
time by the skin of my teeth

because tomorrow
is sure to come
and i can come with it
or let it go on without me

*but tomorrow
is sure to come
with or
without me.

somehow i've always
thought that albuteral
was kind of orange
or citrus flavored

i did not see
this one coming

and i had the
shakes before
the inhaler now
i have them worse

i happened to look at
the calendar on the
bottom right hand corner
of my desktop

(the same one i clicked my
way through on that
day last february when
i decided i needed an out)

9/25/16

and it hit me
in a wash of
bright lights
and nausea

what today is
now that it's one a.m.

and how i gave myself
until september

september

september

september 25th

i may look
dependably unstable
and i may look
explicitly unpredictable

but if there is one
thing you can be
assured of is that i
do not act without a plan

and i had a
plan for today

(i had a complete
plan
the kind of
plan
one does not
talk about)

i can see it in the
white foldout cd set
in my first ever
parental advisory sticker

the reason i
called off my
carefully constructed
plan

was it
worth it?

AND WAS IT
WORTH IT?

i've listened to it
three times and
i still don't know if
it was worth staying for

today's the day
and i had a plan

and now i'm
scared to death

(and i do mean
scared to death)

because a person can't just
forget so thorough a plan.

remember last
year when i
sprained my ankle
in the parking lot?

(you came along
for the limping ride
swore you were
my ride or die)

and i had forgotten
how autumnal and
the slight haze of
anxiety over the
top of my head
until i bent my leg
wrong again today
felt that old twinge

(i mean it's completely
healed it just hurts a
tiny bit if i bend it wrong
or someone sits on it)

of doubt and
apprehension
stalking me through
winter and into summer

of the future
and if i will
have to face
it alone

(a cloying
crippling
catastrophic
fear of that
someday nobody
will love me)

but it's all in my
head i know

(that someday when
i push the people i
need away they just
won't ever come back)

but then again
you said you
were my ride or die
and that means
that i can't lose
you unless i
sabotage my
own game
twist my
own sprain.

lonely autumn nights
blisters and calluses
forming on my stiff
cold hands

(pure cotton
is forgiving of
hasty tendencies
or picky forms)

wrapped and wound
tightly around my fingers
every loop an attempt
at controlling chaos

(thinking about
how i'm not
an outcast and
i never was)

i'm the shoe in the pair
that is slightly too tight
on the one foot that's a
bit larger than the other

or the shirt that you
keep wearing for years
because it fits but you
don't really like it

i am the paint on your
windowframe that's just
fine except for the white
flecks it left on the glass

(i've never been
an outcast
i've always been
different?)

i don't like to say
i'm different because
we're all different
i was just different
enough to be a slight
nuisance or distraction

i apologize too much
for what's not my fault
and too little for what i
should take ownership of

*(something about my personality
maybe just misplaced anxiety
dictates that all things must be
stacked and aligned perfectly.)

I am obsessed,
With an unreasonable,
Amount of pilots.

can't get the onion
out from under
my nails and can't
get it out of my head

(that i should
offer some kind
of ultimatum
for the good
of us all
something along
the lines of
them or me)

i understand that
my maturity is
not something i
can brag about

(but understand that
sometimes what i try
to say gets lost in translation
trying to protect myself
and also that i think we
would all have been better
off if you believed that we
could live without you)

i want to run
but i won't

(i'd be lying if i said i hadn't
thought about showing up
on his doorstep last sunday
night with a backpack my life
savings in cash and begged to
take me along wherever the
hell he was off to didn't care
just wanted to get my *** out of here)

shut my eyes found
another sitcom and
a crochet hook to
dull the nothingness

(i didn't
of course
and now he's down in
chattanooga or something
and i'm up here where
i will continue to rot)

and it's a real relief that
i left my church because
every time someone asks
what i'm doing with my
fall i can hear what they're
asking under the words

(am i going to
be a failure like all
things considered
suggest i will be?)

i have four tickets
in my back pocket
one to my own funeral
one to the end of a bus line
one to debt and anxiety
one to a family who doesn't want me

(i'm not
using any)

and what if this
never gets better
and what if i'm stuck
until i'm thirty-three?

and what if
i put my foot
down and said
that i would leave
in six months if
they didn't first?

but no
you've got me cornered
and i'm too tired for
one last power struggle.