“Thanks for asking, but 𝑰
am fine, just a little tired.
𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 complain, you know?
Everybody gets a bit
stressed sometimes, what with
all that we’ve got to 𝒅𝒐.
It’s not like 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 is any different
than any other day, any other person.
𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 somewhere has it far
worse than I do, so don’t feel sorry
for me. No, 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 your compassion
for a person who really needs it, not
𝒎𝒆.”

The carrot and the thread are still
my calves and hooves, motionless
chewing on a bitter pill
eyes take in the stillness

A slight neigh to sigh a sigh
the usual sounds and usual grunts
the clicking tongue, a pitch too high
pavement castanet-ing
under screaming sun

The carrot and the thread begin to sway
my calves and hooves, they shake
chewing on spit and year-old hay
eyes that want to take

A step and a clack, forward I move
A step and a clack, the carrot too

i feel like the weight of my world
is on my shoulders,
a self-inflicted
Atlas curse.

my actions
are coming back
to knock me down
and crush my resolve.

i'm so close.

so close to getting everything fixed.

and i push the boulder
up the hill as Sisyphus did.

but every time i near the zenith,
i make one small misstep,
and everything slips from my hands,
rolling me flat again.

mere assignments
feel like labours of Hercules,
impossible trials,
with the intent of divine punishment.

if i slay the Hydra,
will i pass english class?

How fast can you jump,
With tired legs?
Further than the wall,
Or are your legs too weak for freedom.

How far can you swim,
When your arms are sore?
Will you make it across the lake,
Or drown half way?

How much can you love,
With a broken heart?
Will you make them happy,
Or have them jumping to get away?

MON

A yearning swallowed softly,
In the wake of reality
Never dared to be dreamt -
It fades away, leaving whispers behind.

They follow me as I work, and
Gaze wistfully out of the misty window -
As I lay in my bed, tired
Dreaming softly of worlds (not my own).

Those whispers distract, daze,
Destroy - destroy my life, built so
Tirelessly with my sweat and despair.
How could I throw away all of this,
When I worked so hard to get it?

Those whispers, they answer -
You worked for it, yes,
but you never
Wanted it.
What is it that you want?

And my traitorous mind, it whispers
(no, screams) back -
Dew-dropped meadows, sunsets that
Burn like fallen gods;
Views that steal my breath, suffocate
Until no thoughts remain.

Awe that makes me breathless, paralyzed -
A beauty so vast it cannot be
Understood.
Dawns that rise with me, falling away
Like old skin, the sun raw
On my transformed self.

Oh, I know what I want.