after moving shifting bodies, from here to there and back again after seeing the time zones float past my tired eyes out the window of an airplane new year's just isn't the same january arrives in the future and i am stuck, held back in the past waiting another three hours for the clock to tick past twelve so i can feel in time with the rest of the world i guess it's just a young cynic's view on the big picture but just the same, i give in and every year i make my list although lately, it's been in my head and the lineup of wishes gets shorter every time and i arrived at the end of this december with only three resolutions in mind
one to find myself to look past all those outward words and blurred reflections and improbable emotions and find my inner demons identify their faces line them up like dominoes shake their hands and become friends
two to know myself to listen to my lines as they trail off into cold air to see through the bones in my body and find the skeleton in my closet so i can finally put him to rest beneath my feet to understand my own thoughts and to read my own writing and to listen harder when i try and speak up
three to love myself as crafted as that sounds this goal resounds within me every time i catch my own eyes and look away
it's just a young cynic's view i know that, yes but i like to think that the simplest, oldest dreams to find myself to know myself to love myself are the ones i should hope to achieve and as the clock bends time and space and i am pulled forward by my beating heart i swear to take that very first step and finally know its weight