Why do superstitions cling on
to the very periphery of my thoughts?
I don't believe there's a connection
between these coincedences.

But there is.

Why do old hands still find me?
They claw at me and hang on.
I refuse to accept them still
coming back again and again.

But they do.

Why does my mind go astray?
It walks in gardens of herbs
whilst I sit here and curse
its absense. It's absent.

But it's here.

And why do I feel sick again?
Maybe it's pressure from my own
expectations, my demands and plans.
I want only to be healthy and happy.

But I'm not.

03/31/2009

Posted on 03/31/2009
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