Unproductivity.
What a silly word.
What a massive waste of time.
While the minutes and even hours race by,
And apparently it’s already July.
The future is coming.
I realize that statement is true yes, but
That doesn’t mean I’m any less scared
That doesn’t mean I’m any less unprepared.
Time moves fast, most of the time that is.
However there are those moments
Where I’m struggling to stay afloat
Resisting the lull of falling behind
Persisting despite my hatred of
My somehow ever-racing mind
I don’t know what to do to slow down
I just need more time, time to breathe.
Time to relax, time to let life pass me by
Maybe just a for a day, where I could get away.
I could leave this town, and avoid
My suffocating obligations
And my equally frustrating
Responsibilities and duties .
And worst of all,
The winner of them all by far,
The anxiety that holds my brain hostage.
Telling me that there’s no time
Yelling at me to focus, to get things done.
But all I can do is sit. There, quietly.
And stare at the wall directly in front of me
For what seems like hours but they’re actually days.
And everything seems to be slipping by.
Minding it’s own business, and I wish it wouldn’t.
I feel as if I’ve lost my tie, my lock to my identity.
The person I thought I used to be
Dedicated and focused.
Is now frustrated and unmotivated
What am I supposed to do?
I suppose, I’ll continue to sit here.
Whether it be at my desk, on my bed.
Racking the ideas and words through my head.
Over and over attempting to
Wait out this unproductivity.
And praying that inspiration
Won’t take much longer
Because I’m afraid I’ve lost what I used to have.

“But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.”

This is a line from Shakespeare’s Othello that has always struck a chord with me. Because in more ways than one it doesn’t make sense. Wearing my heart on my sleeve is a foreign faraway concept for someone like me who struggles to be real and to drop the pretenses. I have built a façade that deems almost inaccessible. However, reality reminds me with people like you that sometimes, broken glass can be just as beautiful. And that vulnerability is not something to be afraid of.

My heart beats rapidly inside of my chest.
My lungs struggle along to catch their breath.
What is this? I ask frantic and almost stressed.
An anatomically correct heart
Lies in the center of my shirt
A gift from someone very dear to me,
Someone who is often times near to me
The melodies of beautiful songs
Accompanied by the delicate strings of a guitar
Ring in my ears as alarms
Rather than acoustic rhythms

I fall to the floor,
Too late to meet up with your shadow
I have once again missed my opportunity.
I think back and the nostalgia washes over me.
I remember when we used to
Steal kisses under the navy-blue night sky
The stars seem to shine just for you and me
I wish with all of my being that we could just be.
That we could stay in this moment forever or perhaps
Just for another minute, just for another second,
Just for one more moment.

But alas, you return home, and so do I,
Back to the mundanity of our everyday lives
You remind of the ocean,  
Powerful and destructive, and yet I find myself
Hopelessly drawn to you.
The serenity of it all knocks my breath away.
I travel to reverie quite often these days
Perhaps it’s to escape the reality
Of the broken pieces that we left behind
When we decided that perhaps together just wasn’t meant to be
The sunshine filtering through your pale colored curtains
The flowers that follow your footsteps
Marking your past and illuminating your future.
I miss you more than these words can spell.
My soul aches terribly thinking of our last farewell.
All I want is your lips pressed against mine
Our hands closer than ever; intertwined;
As we stroll next to the coastline
But instead I’m left alone with my thoughts.

In the process of writing this poem,
I am not only wearing my heart on my chest literally
I’m doing something I rarely do,
An expression of vulnerability
Of unexpectedly sweet feelings.
I am wearing my heart on my sleeve.
Because I know by now, that I have fallen too far.
To even believe, I don’t know if we’re meant to be
I only trust in what I can see,
And hope and pray that you feel the same for me.

Watching the clouds is such a calming activity. I wonder why I don’t do it more. I suppose it’s because during the year “I don’t have the time”, but what does that even mean? There is always time, time is continuous. It is fluid, I am not reminded of this often enough. I like being outside during the time just a little bit before sunset to watch the majesty of nature welcome the night. Spending time with my dogs is rather pleasant too, I don’t do it frequently enough, I know. The sky has slowly turned into shades of grey and the clouds are growing heavy. The final calls of the birds are echoing off the dusty concrete as they call to each other in what I can only assume is their language. There is not too much longer that I can sit outside for before it’s completely dark which I know I wouldn’t enjoy. There’s too much uncertainty about the night compacted with the well known and well repeated fact that I can’t see. It’s pretty much a nightmare combination. However I have to say, there’s something special about sitting barefoot in the grass watching the sun go down with the only company being your dogs.

It’s quiet. It didn’t used to be. My parents have been fighting for who knows how long tonight. It’s not great background noise when I’m trying to relax. There’s a motorcycle racing down my street there is definitely something to living behind the protection of a driveway. I couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to live next to a highway. It’s peaceful watching the clouds slowly amble across the sky changing color ever so slightly. I really enjoy summer in this moment. The gentle breeze, the kisses from my dog, the slowly setting sun, and melodic hymn from the birds create a vision that seems to be stripped from a movie scene.

There have been so many moments
that I have missed.
Completely escaping from my pen.
Writing feels almost foreign to me,
It’s been so long.
I feel ill-equipped, unprepared,
Not qualified in the slightest.
The thoughts that are buzzing around my brain
Refuse to transplant themselves
Onto the paper in front of me
They reject and avoid these
New environments.
I don’t know. I suppose
I sympathize for them, they’re afraid
Scared little thoughts, terrified of judgement
Aren’t I not the same?
Existing is a scary concept for all of us
I’m sure
But I think the best of us learn to hide, to confuse
The clock begins to tick down
My eyes are getting
Worse by the minute
I can feel it, I can live it.
And it’s getting
infinitely harder to breathe
To the point where I visit
The doctor for help.
Once again,
There’s too much time
I conclude
Too many possibilities
It all sounds terrible. What am I supposed to do.
Unruly and untamed I stroll through my exhibition
My disappointments, my unlived-in potential
Of unspoken thoughts, of uncommunicable feelings
They seem to be enjoying themselves
Enjoying the company, enjoying the rest
I suppose I would to.
It’s difficult to choose one to expose,
One to leave out
For the sun to eventually dry out
One to abandon forever.
I don’t know how to say goodbye.
I’ve never been good with farewell.
Not quite sure what I’m doing here
Brain where have you been.
I yell out to nowhere in particular.
What’s going on.
Please answer soon,
Because the clock is ticking down
And I remember a time where
Writing used to be my salvation,
But now writing seems to have
become nothing more than the source of
my everlasting frustration.
I hope things shift soon,
I hate being so far out of the loop,
Being so far from who I used
To be, the person I believed was me.
Maybe things will change, they have to.

Lie to me.
Please for the sake of my sanity.
For my delicate beating heart.
Tell me that you still love me.
Even if it’s a lie, I don’t want to lose you just yet.
Reassure of me of your undying feelings.
Of your beautiful soul that still cares for mine.
Please, please tell me you still love me.
Just one more time, just for one more night.

Meet you downstairs right?
For Friday night adventures, and Saturday morning breakfasts.
Where did it all go?
How did it all vanish like smoke drifting upwards from a tear in the hatch?
I thought that maybe in some alternate timeline,
That we were going to be the perfect match.
I refuse to believe that I’m mistaken, I’m afraid to be.
Terrified really.
My stomach falls to floor, as I sort through the letters
That you sent to my hotel.
Where did that love go?

Say something, or don’t, I suppose.
Is it really that hard? I’m not quite sure I understand.
How is so easy for you to deceive me
and leave me completely stranded and lonely?
I thought you were so gorgeous when
Those words fell from your mouth.
I knew that every single one was
Dipped in deadly poison.
But it didn’t matter in the slightest.
I was determined to interpret your words as truth.
I would believe in whatever you were to say to me,
In some ways it was dangerous. I agree
The way that I was so toxically
And completely dependent on your existence.

The person I used to be,
No longer needs your false histories
But lies cold and empty
Alone, but looking back,
Honestly, it’s preferable
To the company
Of someone like you,
Someone who’s callous and heartless
And above all
A liar.