i place my hope
too easily noun’s way –
oh, if i could meet this friend,
see this one. go to texas,
anywhere with these friends
an unseen face radiates
light i want gaze moments
too long for societal standards.
i know they aren’t god, but I
see something in words printed
i often miss spoken face-to-face.
this week i again confessed,
i don’t want to be famous.
i can barely talk to one person,
let alone fifty. you know, for book
signings. i said, i just want one
paying magazine, showing my
pointer finger to make statement.
a world’s push for independence;
a prideful “i did this” never seemed
becoming to me. what am i gaining
buying every book i swear i’ll read, let
lie months at a time? claustrophobia.
same with trying to make a name
for illusion: worldwide acceptance.
i say i want Jesus, never let quiet
peace waters soak my hellbent heart—
disability doesn’t disqualify wanting/
needing control. i live off a small,
entrusted amount of money—
enough to pay a year & a half
school loans, a phone bill.
never enough to live on,
have my own home,
pay electric, water, internet,
grocery bills. i never dream
getting so far. maybe i don’t
allow myself dream/try reaching,
but i am fed, my head rests on pillow
in a bed, under blankets.
i have enough clothes,
a dresser to put them.
i have television if i wish watch.
a laptop i went end of summer
without. every turn i’ve been
asked, come along? someone
fulfilled every need, want
& comfort for what never
passed through. friend
recalling every story
a laugh every ache,
sympathy when words
won’t hold place.
if all he asks is thanks
midst of all i don’t know,
then thank you for valley
willowing my posture
humble, constant helplessness
a saviour’s reminder, let go—