USP - Day 21

USP - Day 21

Here is a poem I wrote today:

It's summertime so I cleaned my room and took a cold shower

It's nice how in the summertime you can find such goodness in simple days

Finding a new part of town

Finally doing your laundry

Something is so endless about it

Doing anything at all is enough to be proud of

Stuck in that infinite space between feeling lazy

And being free

But I saw a picture of you with your hair grown long

And now I think summertime is nostalgia

And nostalgia is not free


I wasn't happy with this poem. I looked at some old poems and I found this one, called Perennial, and it helped me feel good again.


Recovery is this:

I don’t even remember the poem I meant to write about him

But I remember a poem I meant to write about someone else

A little one that went

“I think he could find me beautiful and love who I am”

A one-liner that filled me in spots that have been empty for years

Chicken noodle soup

Little oil spots on the surface

Something mom made once

And maybe happiness is just forgetting and pretending

But maybe that’s okay

And maybe sometimes our little wished fantasies come true

And that’s nice

But sometimes they don’t

And so we forget and pretend some more

We tell ourselves to let go, let go of the memories that hold too much too soon

Let go of the shouting inside of us

Or else turn it into song

And once you have emptied those banshees

Finally you can tell yourself again

That someone will find the person you are, beautiful

And you can stroke your hands over your face, and feel the bones below your eyes, the muscles of your jaw, the bumps on your forehead

And you can look at the freckles on the spots that the sun reached for you too hard

And feel the spring

And know that some flowers die every year so that they can sprout back up again when they feel good and ready

USP - Day 22

USP - Day 22

USP - Day 20

USP - Day 20