For the time that I wasn’t listening to music,
I did regret it. I wanted desperately
to be back in upwards space, and I considered
even drugs for a second –
                                           just a heartbeat
and not working wasn’t the worst of it
of the problematic functioning, the stop 
start motion
                   moving forward and writing again
wasn’t about line breaks and it wasn’t
about cut and paste – my scrapbooks meant
nothing when I didn’t leave the house
I took for granted for a while, smoky rooms
and evenings outside with the harsh lights
I took for granted, the parks and bridges
and I never did consider that there
might be a time when I wasn’t sixteen
– I know now
and nothing is as I pictured, I thought
that at twenty, I would not



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