A Work Not in Progress

A wish list I won't make the efforts to have granted

I wish all my demons weren't so intangible

And that feeding them with tangible things wasn't so casual

And that the idea of escaping them wasn't so laughable

I wish I'd break this cycle of self-reduction to collateral

 

I wish my shoulders would fall back when I run

And that each wave of anxiety wasn't driven to invalidate the last one

And that time wouldn't feel like the movement of slow days in a fast month

I wish my back could feel relief like my front

 

I wish I didn't allow myself to indulge in fear of fear

And that there was somewhere I wanted to be,

       but all I can ever think is not here

And that I could trade one of the languages in my head to make my speech a little more clear

I wish self-destruction weren't always so near

 

I wish I acted on my feelings more, or maybe less

And that I wasn't satisfied with being decisionless

And that I wouldn't let uncertainty justify paralysis

I wish I didn't substitute my highs for catharsis