Day 10: Raw

Raw.
Real, grimy, seedy
Plant it, watch it grow.
Do nothing but water it
And anything you can to let it
Be.

Day 9: Story

Scritch scratch
Crick crack
Let the story begin
*ahem*

But first a proviso
A disclaimer, to
Dis claim; dis own.
Ok, now for the story...

After this brief message
To remind you of something you forgot and don't need.
Now let's get on with our story.

As soon as I have a glass of water
And loosen my vocal chords
me- me- me-
Alright kids, are you ready for our story?
Excellent.
Right after I--

Day 8: In My Own Time

Why not me? Huh? Why not me?
I ask myself.
Watching other people's lives and questioning
Why they got so lucky. How?

Standing with my nose pressed against the glass;
My covetous breath fogging up the store window.
So much so, that I can't see through any more.
And as the fog clears, I catch a glimpse of my reflection.

And myself says to I,
"See, you don't need to worry about me.
You see behind me?
I got a lot. A lot of what THEY do. And don't.
Health, love, talent, beauty,
Clarity."

And for the first time, I open my eyes
And look again through the glass.
And what I see pleases me,
Because it no longer serves as a reminder
Of what I lack,
But instead brings me joy in their happiness
And hope for my own.

So you don't have to worry about me.
I will have what I seek
In my own time.

Day 7: Check

Make haste.
Quickly. Get on board.
It is the thing
We all do. Get on board.

Follow the herd;
Make no waves.
Sssshh, keep quiet.
Are you afraid?
Good that might just keep you in
Check yourself before you
Wreck. Yourself

Head down; hustle.
Be a step; never the climber.
And smile, while others reach higher heights
On the back of your efforts;
While you remain on level one
While you stay stuck in ground zero
While you sit at the drawing board: blank.
And smile.

Day 6: Would You Be Friends With You?

The page of a magazine.
Staring up at me.
Pulled off the shelf and added to my less than 10 items
On a whim.
The questions go on and on,
Seemingly light-hearted
At first.

The pen checking off the right options with ease.
Yes, no, maybe when I'm dead, abso-friggin-lutely.
Then it stops. Stumped.
Stuck on question #9.
"Would you be friends with yourself?"
Huh.

Contemplation. The deep kind. Introspection.
I meet myself. We click. Of course.
"So far so good," I say to myself.
Not myself. To me.

Time goes by. Things are going well, but something is starting to feel...
Off.
Then myself starts pulling some straight up, uncool, high school
Bullshit.
Guilt trips; backwards comments; DRAMA.

Snapping back to the magazine page,
The pen hastily checks off,
"No."

Day 5: Affliction

Do something!
Don't just sit there!
You can't let me suffer this way!!
Don't you see my dying?!
Can't you see it eating at me?!

It is an unbearable condition.
An affliction that I cannot escape.
I. AM. SUFFOCATING. in my own self-pity
And I can see NO. WAY. OUT!

It's KILLING me.
It is ROBBING ME of my life.
Of fulfilment. Of joy.
Or meaning. Of  love.

Get me out of this pathetic hole!
I'm trapped in 17,000 ways
And I need HELP!

Day 4: Endings

What is ending?
It is only a re-beginning.
Mourning is not for the ending,
But for the struggle ahead;
For the left behind;
For the starting over or the waiting to die.

What is beginning?
It is new; it is birth.
Terrifying unknowns;
Thrilling variables;
Unavoidable tribulation;
Veritable transmutation.

What is 'what is'?
It is.