[...motion in stagnation]
A map is already crumpled in my shaking hand,
Coffee dripping from my lips-
Am I really here?
Are you really there? –
My mind is amiss.
And my feet are heavy.
This lifetime is filled with stagnation:
And then really losing it.
(…Then finding it again when there’s no alternative)
Aching bones, muscles longing for bed –
Did I sleep last night?
What have you been dreaming? –
Everything is dusty (nothing is clear).
I try to erase what I have already crossed out,
In motion, but not driven.
Alive, but not living.
I wish I could feel the sturdiness of my bones,
Like I wish I could feel the certainty of my life.
But I am too accident-prone.
I will my ligaments to hold,
My armour to stay strong,
Just long enough to make a life,
A proper life that is deliberate (not just inadvertent).