Rest
close your eyes
The moments of quiet are earned or deserved
I loathe coming back
because the quest is a burden
that you must choose
looking at your phone
What you choose
Or editing shitty blog posts
as long as we’re choosing
we’re equal
But maybe you’re wrong
candy crushing it
because I keep brawling my dragons, and losing
and squeezing that for poetry
as if only fighting gives my life meaning
As If I deserve that hero’s pose
that makes my toes numb
this unyielding throne
But maybe with practice and prayer
I’ll find devotion
redemption
salvation
stop the tingling in my shins
and finally find peace
a solid 9 hours of sleep
I don’t feel very poetic right now
laborious breaths
and hot showers
are about as much as I can handle
so I pull out some scraps of paper
scribbled on some subway car
from some party long forgotten
wondering if it’s worth copying down and if the feelings still hold.