A POEM A DAY

I am sleeping too much again.
Yesterday I woke to find the day dancing
and couldn’t find my dancing shoes anywhere.
There’s a story there, but I shut my eyes before
it sees the sunlight and decides to rise likewise.
I hit the story with the bunt of my fist
and it collapsed like snooze.

It is morning now. Afternoon, actually but
I just woke up so what’s the difference?
Nothing happens other than what is supposed to.
What is supposed to happen is the problem.
Overwhelmed by mostly myself, I run into people
who make me feel less alone because to me that
seems easier than the alternative.
There’s a story there, but I’ll replace it with a quote.
Octavio Paz wrote, “Self-discovery is above all the realization that we are
alone.”

Is there a word to describe the feeling of missing someone
before you actually leave? What about missing everyone?
I am trying to anticipate the craters my own absence
will create, the crashing and burning that will become of me
when I lose half my universe and though I cannot control
where the ash goes, I can be ready for the blood, or at the very least
the realization that I am alone. I can’t help but hate the way my sleep
repeats cast-away phrases like leave me be, like nothing ever stays
so what’s the use in staying awake? Even my coffee’s gone cold.  |
I am not losing, I just know I’m leaving soon, and I can’t even 
find my damn dancing shoes, and everyone I love is on the dance floor.
Everyone I love is staying around to see me, but I am too tired.

Snooze.