Perpetually Unfinished Thoughts

Sep 07, 2023

Poems have always had a profound impact on me. Their delicate prose and brevity keep me grasping for more and pondering endlessly.

I wanted to share something slightly different in my newsletter this month — a few poems I wrote.

Some of these were scribbled in my journal, jotted on a napkin, or thrown into my notes app as they bubbled inside my head.

I hope you enjoy.

The rain here is different.

Raindrops are colder. Smaller. Dirtier. They rinse the smog out of the air and then get splashed by hurried feet.

In my life before, the raindrops were warm. Big. They fell with passion. Wheels pushed them up into the grass, and they grew new life.

I am different, too. My warm adolescence was traded for a colder home.

I can revisit it, but the rain will never feel the same as it did then.

II.

I think the goal of life is to be broken.

We must break over and over and over again until we are a million shards of glass that reflect light in every direction.

The light that we become is life in its purest form — broken,

but immensely whole.

III.

I sit here in the coffee shop, watching how others carry themselves through the world, and it makes me think of my presence.

How am I thought of in the minds of others? What label do they tag me with? What folder am I filed in?

Anyway,

I hope it is a kind one.

IV.

Today, I cried for the first time in a year.

I cried tears of joy in a park, and a young couple stared at me.

I cried for my ability to love something I had hated for a long time.

Without critique. Without caveat. Within condition.

Today, I cried for the first time in a year and finally fell in love with myself.

Being with you felt like letting ocean water dry on my skin until only salt was left.

Thankfully, the longer you go without something, the more comfortable you become with its absence.

I haven't needed the beach in years.

VI.

I thought it happened when I deleted the pictures, kissed someone else, and sang the song without thinking of you.

However, it was really when I ate alone at a fancy restaurant, complimented a stranger, and danced breathlessly in front of my mirror.

VII.

Real life is boring yet exciting.

I can feel lethargic one second and breathless the next.

Full of so many things and simultaneously full of so much dead space.

Is this it?

Boredom mixed with chaos?

Maybe it’s the universe giving me a chance to think about why I’m here.

Maybe boredom is the mind screaming for creativity.

Thanks for reading.

As always, stay curious.