It’s like they are afraid someone will find out they are not living perfect lives.
Woe is me, obviously.
… a few free write poems that came about in a unique sequence which involved the sense I should share them here.
Eventually, you find the frozen plums in the icebox.
the fates have spoken / so that’s all
try to otherwise
until you make up your mind / to learn to fly
What hierarchy / suggests / your impending / fruitions?
because all people everywhere / know that knowing causes / the greatest sorrow
It’s just a matter / of how many layers / of “me” you release
what good / is the awe / of stars / if we see / only that / we are / worlds apart?