i worry, sometimes

I called my mother and said, I'm tired of this.

I'm tired of more things than I can count but I'm mostly tired of myself. I am going to pull things together. I am going to find what's left in the mess I've made of things, and I'm going to salvage a life out of this wreckage.

It's not a task I look to with joy.

I'm drinking spearmint tea and listening to soothing music and trying to write about form in chinese poetry. Later I will go to the library, which is still a place of worship for me, and peruse the shelves.

I'm going to keep breathing and think about the people and things I love.