I tried to bury the fountain
along with a rainbow
but I found you in my bed again
scribbling with crayons
I tried to cover up my tattoo
all these years of printing hearts
upon my sleeve
always yearning to improve

I tried to marry another way
pass the time with some other face
put my tools back in the drawer
and step away from what’s been said
I tried to give you up
as if there were two ways of being
to create or to consume
conserve my energy for one alone

I tried to believe there was no distance
left for me to travel 
misguided and lacking wisdom
I thought this body was all explored
I tried to give you up
but you grabbed me by the wrists
and proudly slid a pen between 
my fingers and my thumb

Now, I see and I admit
O, there will be spidery black words
and tapestries of dreams
and wild imaginings
and haunted diary entries
and uncouth blue fantasies
and endless sad soliloquies 
and the most rewarding therapy
and all these broken things
that I let ring
as I go on living

O, I tried to give up writing
what was I thinking…
 

[2023]

*about a strange decision I made aged 23.