</2018>
a slow burn branding
of self-worth;
another summer with
my cat in a still
unfinished apartment;
a new car, hardly
driven but well
appreciated; a
celebration of my
decennial in portland,
surrounded by friends
who put up with me
over all these years.
a lot of little things
compiled like wet clay
pressed against
this hollow golem
yearning for the
light of creation.
so much i don't
remember because
it was not worth
remembering. so many
empty weekends with
my face stuck in a
video game, relentless
self-caring in a fortress
until it became the
addiction i sought to avoid.
new loves, none held
in arms, some destined
to disappear before
i had a chance
to wrench open
this rusty heart.
not realizing i needed
oil first.
<2019>
and now what? what
change begets the turning
of the seasons?
they say to make concrete
resolutions that you can
attain—and yet, i find
abstract concepts are good
bubbles to float in your
mind, like mantras.
"treat myself better"
has no tangible goal
but is a nice reminder
when you're submerged.
i want to love and have
it reciprocated in that
way where, in bed and
half-wrestled in sexual
grandeur, your partner
says, "can we try something?"
and you spend the next
half hour thinking up a
good safeword.
i want to find joy
in the world again,
to stare up at skyscrapers
in awe, to feel emotions
in full color and
devoid of white noise.
i want to be happy
and content in my
choices. i'd like to
get laid, if we're being
honest, and tell funny
stories about our exes
in the shower afterward.
i'd like to live,
and feel alive,
and want to do those things.
but that doesn't require
a new year. it requires
something else that i'm
still searching for.
jcb