To Waste My Day Away

A look into the healing process. Contending with childhood wounds, past relationships, and capitalism

I.


And so
I wish to waste my days away
With art, and poetry, and movement
Sweetly, slowly, sipping the steaming coffee
Mixed in my own creation
As I listen to the birds sing
Or the music blaring
I so wish to waste my days like this


And too
Maybe once in a blue moon
A lover comes to speak to me sweetly
Just enough to satisfy that
Itching need of tenderness
But not enough to undress
The madness in my mind


And love my solitude
Which breaks every day at noon
For tea and coffee with a friend
That comes then goes again
Leaving me contentedly
To waste the day away


II.


"But for whom?"
They whisper to me
"Do you waste your days away?"
"For a child perhaps?
For a lover?
For another production of society?
What purpose do you give?"
They rattle in my brain
And lock me down to never waste away any day
And suffer these things that feed my soul


"But why?"
My brain plays tricks
To keep me addicted
To the poison that love can turn
Routing out the memories and a flash of things
That came before
Warning signs
Which weigh me down, with a want to control
Or at least to know
That forever is on your lips


And friendships?
What are those but tempest situations
Which swell with hot and cold
Based in what suites the other
But never you
Your wishes do not matter
Your wants fall on deff ears
Your needs are meaningless
You must give your everything
Never waste a single day for yourself


III.


And so
I wish to waste my days away
Alone and unburdened
But those that came before
Muddle in the recesses of the past
Which catches up to each of us fast
Must be contended with


The love that I seek
Is beneath
The layers of loathing
Slathered on
By ghosts
Both familiar and estranged
Compounding ruthlessness in my brain
Of that which I deserve
And that which is worth fighting for


Groups and hordes
Of a chosen family
I desperately cling
To this idea of belonging
But not to forget
That one must also be chosen
Righteously
And as of yet
I have not met
Another like me


V.


Still I persist
In this dream
Of waking without constant struggle
Surrounded by
My lulls and hums
And gracious, slow movements
Of blissful fulfillment


I seek to understand
The lover already in hand
With the freedom of an open palm
And the present bliss that one day maybe gone
Will live on
In best memories and omnipresent


A collective
A collaboration
A group of women
And men
And them
That keep my feet on the ground
And remind me, that no day is a waste


VI.


And so
I wish to waste my days away
With art, and poetry, and movement
Sweetly, slowly, sipping the steaming coffee
Mixed in my own creation
As I listen to the birds sing
Or the music blaring
I so wish to waste my days like this




And too
Maybe once in a blue moon
A lover comes to speak to me sweetly
Just enough to satisfy that
Itching need of tenderness
But not enough to undress
The madness in my mind




And love my solitude
Which breaks every day at noon
For tea and coffee with a friend
That comes then goes again
Leaving me contentedly
To waste my day away