She Is Done
open eyes, fully locked in
Windows to the soul become scanners
ears become uselessly deaf
my whole being, one purpose
sort by priority & relevance
At last, a straightforward state of mind
In focus, there is a limbo of sorts
where there are no "what-if's"
no gray or white or black
no philosophical circles we could run in for days
and the only debate
is which folder the paper goes into
Sort through documents of bills & taxes,
many would call it mind numbing
and maybe it does
it gets my brain off this virus
and that future
there is only now
and this disheveled mess
I want, need to fix
just because I can
Taxes my mind, and the clean dials up
This makes me feel important
I am doing something
And I toil and iron and chip away
because for once, the end is in sight
and despite all the factors out there
I can't have any say in
that some days is just seriously hair loss inducing
I can hammer this out
until this, at least, is gold
Up, it's my turn to take a swing
so I'll turn into metal for a few hours or so
until I'm sweating out all the boulders I refuse to unleash
when my spotify chinese playlist has exhausted itself
then, I can yell out into the void
that you know what?
I swung, HOMERUN!
I DID SOMETHING
THAT WASN'T NOTHING
and I did it despite all the levitating variables
you levy against me
the helpless, the hopeless
has become useful
and she is done
homerun, she's proven herself to herself
done with your half lies she believed
done with the manipulative tricks she fell for
done with the filing, done with the sorting,
done, done, done
productivity is a kind of medicine
that always brings her back up again
and all it takes is the silent sterility
blissful accomplishment, close eyes
focus, exhale
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