Moving Day

Part 1
I have been staring at clocks too much
measuring life in minutes and tea mugs
instead of moments

(and I fear I will measure moments instead of
letting moments, me, assure. I was much better
at math than feelings, which was never
a course at school and should have been )

The other day, about
4 months ago, there were tears and I asked
what counts as love and she answered, finally,
today:  laughing with my voice, gently:
silly, love
isn’t countable.

Part 2
I have been reading about making the epistemelogical
and ontological shift for 2 years and I think
I’m making mine, I’m shifting like
crooked teeth in a witch’s laughing mouth.

I can’t explain it, but
I have moved from where the sidewalk
ends, and where







This entry was posted in Mental Health, poetry, Thoughts on Life and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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