On figuring things out and you. I don’t know how it links
Spend those few moments on me
remember my name once in a while
just as I mull over yours
day in and day out rolling it over my tongue
spitting it out
sliding it between my fingers
and letting it slip through
syllable by syllable
until all that is left
are scattered letters of the alphabet
void of emotion
void of character.
And its taken
purging of my thoughts
stringing words together like gray bunting
in hopes that something colourful will emerge,
useless journal entries on my
philosophy of life
writing to figure something out
but I what I figured out from writing about figuring life out
is that no one really knows anything
and we’re all just trying to feel our way through an unlit maze hoping
we won’t misstep and
fall down a ditch into rock bottom city
where some of the people highest up on the lists currently reside
its taken me all this purging and writing about not figuring things out
just to get back to a place
where I can pour some syrup out of my mouth about you
instead of choking up grey bunting
so excuse me
for I haven’t figured anything out
but at least I have this poem that is more like
an array of different bunting
in varying shades of blue
coming out my mouth coated in syrup
apparently I am getting there
figuring that things cannot be figured
and also that
I should de-string your name more often
syllable by syllable
letter by letter
and instead of letting it slip
I should drop it without looking
so that it will eventually mean nothing
Remember to Exhale 