this is not a poem about you

i am ok

surrounded by constellations

of coffee stains

i didn’t drink

 

i am fine

not noticing the weather

or

the sun burns

 

i am content

with ice cream

chess

mismatched

strands of hair

 

i am incredible

bloated here

with nothing at all

that pours out

still

 

i am defiant

against the morning dew

and the apocalypse of evaporation

that follows like belaboured breathes

 

i am stellar

in this dark room

alone

 

i am nature

with ants picking up

those who can

no longer

 

i am total

packing up bags

wondering if i forgot

anything

 

i am universal

not recognizing any of the faces

that tell me how good i look now

 

i am not looking

at those faces

which may also look as good

as me missing a now then

 

i am good

i am great

i am gracious

in my fourth drink

not trying to be a cliché

though the wine is french

and i am not

 

i am strength

moving onto another day

that would come without me

anyways

 

i am rest

not sleeping

i am dreaming

not snoring

 

i am hunger

unloading the boxes

entering the void

eating the hearts

that will beat with light

and electricity again

 

i am asexual

knowing that even self-pollinating flowers

need the sun

 

i am the sun

knowing that even a star

needs the empty space

 

i am empty space

knowing it needs nothing more

than it

 

i am it

but that was not enough

of it

for you