Was talking with my previous roommate and she asked me if I’ve ever thought about going back to school…  Basically the conversation turned into me justifying my decision to stay in Fargo and work as a CNA.

I’m happy.  I get to take vacations whenever I want, for months at a time.  How many people get to do that?  I couldn’t do the five days a week, two  weeks a year off thing.  I just couldn’t. 

We started talking about the summer and how worried she was that I was becoming depressed then… Honestly I had forgotten all about it.  I was sad this summer. I can’t believe I forgot about that. 

So now I’m thinking too much, trying to figure out why specifically I was so out of it this summer.  Maybe because I didn’t take any solo trips.  Maybe because I didn’t have my own room, or because people kept canceling on me when I tried to make plans. 

Or maybe my brain is just that way.  Sends me down into the abyss sometimes.  It’s okay though.  I can always see the light up there.

Hmm.  Don’t know.

there’s nothing worse than feeling like a ghost

see it’s like this
you want to be exceptional
but you’re afraid you can’t pull it off
you feed me novels of your past
refusing to entertain a stage of future hopes
you walk instead of dance
and you envy those with enough audacity
to fake rhythm
while yours sleeps in your bones
deep and deep and deep
you dream of apples
and leave the branches unshaken
you invite stagnancy in as an old friend
and are too polite to kick him out
when he’s overstayed his welcome
(I thought I was writing this for you, but it may have been for the me I used to be)
the weekend was just so amazing I don’t wanna go back to normal days…

six months


I throw myself at
inhabit turtle shell
back alleyway
sleep for 13 hours a night
lose my ability
for metaphors
quit writing
quit singing
quit college
I take on mannerisms
that would make my former self
look like a
bellowing lumberjack
I know it threw you
to watch a butterfly
devolve into
a caterpillar again
reverse Darwinism
disappearing wings
star turned black hole
my writing is VERY sub par lately but I will work on that.  It’s like learning how to breathe again.  Not that I can remember the first time I learned how to breathe.  anyways I lost six months due to … well.  I did not write this during those six months but to be honest I didn’t really write anything.  Just laid in my bedroom and watched like thirty episodes of “Community” a day.  I’ve never referenced a lumberjack in a poem. Oddly enough I mention lumberjacks in real life quite a lot.