i helped a lady
take her groceries to her house today.
it was the same lady
i watched cross the street
it was the same lady
i didnt hear walk into the corner store behind me.
it was the same lady
i let the door fall onto.
i couldnt hear her.
she ended up ahead of me on the sidewalk.
grocery bags on the pavement.
phone on her ear.
i walked by her.
she apologized
said she was trying to get help.
we walked together.
she told me 'help' was on the patio
drinking a beer.
she asked where i lived
and i said a street over.
she said she hoped she'd see me around.
and i said maybe not, im going home for the summer.
she asked if i was getting out of the rat race
im too young for the rat race.
she thanked me a lot
and said
'some good karma will come your way
im a firm believer in that'
me too
i said.
i walked home and thought
i should write a poem about
that conversation.
about giving a second chance
about being a kind person.
about karma.
usually when something like this happens
i write the minute i get home
but i didnt.
i realized, i dont think i can write
about happy things
because when they happen
they always ferment until
they're not what they were.
it was a quick high
a genuine moment.
if karma is real
and that woman is right
either im the devil himself
or theres a big check
with my name on it.
before i started writing
i googled seasonal depression symptoms
apparently not talking to anyone between the months of february and may every year is still a horse with no name.
how do you **** a love
you made yourself.
i leave this town in a week
and i feel as broken
and confused
as the **** i tried to leave
all i want to do is jump in the river
to see if i can really swim
and figure it out from there.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 4:48 AM UTC
i helped a lady
take her groceries to her house today.
it was the same lady
i watched cross the street
it was the same lady
i didnt hear walk into the corner store behind me.
it was the same lady
i let the door fall onto.
i couldnt hear her.
she ended up ahead of me on the sidewalk.
grocery bags on the pavement.
phone on her ear.
i walked by her.
she apologized
said she was trying to get help.
we walked together.
she told me 'help' was on the patio
drinking a beer.
she asked where i lived
and i said a street over.
she said she hoped she'd see me around.
and i said maybe not, im going home for the summer.
she asked if i was getting out of the rat race
im too young for the rat race.
she thanked me a lot
and said
'some good karma will come your way
im a firm believer in that'
me too
i said.
i walked home and thought
i should write a poem about
that conversation.
about giving a second chance
about being a kind person.
about karma.
usually when something like this happens
i write the minute i get home
but i didnt.
i realized, i dont think i can write
about happy things
because when they happen
they always ferment until
they're not what they were.
it was a quick high
a genuine moment.
if karma is real
and that woman is right
either im the devil himself
or theres a big check
with my name on it.
before i started writing
i googled seasonal depression symptoms
apparently not talking to anyone between the months of february and may every year is still a horse with no name.
how do you **** a love
you made yourself.
i leave this town in a week
and i feel as broken
and confused
as the **** i tried to leave
all i want to do is jump in the river
to see if i can really swim
and figure it out from there.
this is a little long
and more of a ramble than anything ive written before
its also my 100th poem on this site
so i just want to say thanks
to all that have listened
and to all those that have said kind things
they dont go unnoticed
and i am very appreciative.
this community has done a lot for me
and i have a big project coming soon
that im excited to share
if youre willing to listen.
thank you
i love you
god bless.