When you wake up in the morning,
you crack all the bones in your body that you can.
You are not sure if this is a reminder of aliveness
in the way that old houses are revived when steps fall on creaky floorboards.
You write poems about yourself,
convinced that they will save you.
They will.
Cigarette, shower, breathe easy.
Deep and slow, like the coming of winter, like the ticking of a grandfather clock.
Remember that you had one,
and you left it behind.
Remember there are so many other things like this.
When you wake up in the morning,
so often you have to remind yourself
that today is a day worth living,
even if it is storming,
even if the clouds haven’t moved for days
or weeks
or years.
Today is a day worth living because there are so many things you have
yet to do,
like walk outside
or dream yourself a kite.
It is pouring rain now.
This, too, is another reason to stay alive.
Watch the drunken beauty of the overflowing earth
wait for you to join it
a long, long time from now.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 2:22 PM UTC
When you wake up in the morning,
you crack all the bones in your body that you can.
You are not sure if this is a reminder of aliveness
in the way that old houses are revived when steps fall on creaky floorboards.
You write poems about yourself,
convinced that they will save you.
They will.
Cigarette, shower, breathe easy.
Deep and slow, like the coming of winter, like the ticking of a grandfather clock.
Remember that you had one,
and you left it behind.
Remember there are so many other things like this.
When you wake up in the morning,
so often you have to remind yourself
that today is a day worth living,
even if it is storming,
even if the clouds haven’t moved for days
or weeks
or years.
Today is a day worth living because there are so many things you have
yet to do,
like walk outside
or dream yourself a kite.
It is pouring rain now.
This, too, is another reason to stay alive.
Watch the drunken beauty of the overflowing earth
wait for you to join it
a long, long time from now.
