365 Poems – 120 Progression (Rough First Draft)


Everyone looks

at my obliterated heart,

and shrugs.


I’m shoved with

other, old shadows

who believe something’s

are just not possible.


I refuse to believe this.

I don’t want to wait for the

future to fall and bury me deep.


My tiredness transforms

into something stronger.

I can recover what I have lost,

and more, if I try hard enough.


I can have days

that are as pleasurable

as having hair gently combed

after a hurricane.


My wounds haven’t been

touched for a while,

and have started to heal well.


I get as far as the coast of Svalbard,

and feel in me a rise, a desire

to be self-reliant in every detail.