sealed and never delivered

if i do what i can, can is bitter…
there are so many hopes still living
inside what passes for a heart
in me
the expert at beginnings
the one who only wants to start

and never finish
though i hope some day
to find that part within
that lets me finish
what i begin

oh it’s not that simple!
nothing ever is…
i could write a million titles
to a million books
because i’m good at the titles
the inside part is hard
stony as rocks
to chip that sculpture
that defines literature

sometimes it’s years later
i find an old project and finally
finish it

keep a hoard of half-way done
if i am mental, it is the amount
of half-way finished projects that spell
out my particular brand of illness

because it’s always


SOMEDAY i will finish
once upon a time into the future
and i only wait for perfection

for the inspired ME that can bring
perfect harmony to matter and space

when it’s only space that matters
room to reach …

to become

if i were good i would finish what i start
but i don’t bother
if i already learned what i wanted

the product is not the thing
it is the ME that KNOWS
the goal is different … but yet

not exactly a good
a right thing to be to leave behind
this long string of uncompleted

these half-done things
and loved
they make me a little less
of a person

though i am the person who never
runs out of “things” to do
there is that

to tinker is to fix and form
on canvas or there is yarn
i cannot go to yarn ever again,
too many unfinished yarn-things
weavings that spell out my deficit

my greatest fear is boredom
lack of occupation
i need to be learning or i am nothing

an empty soul
i struggle
but the struggle is what i am

did i choose this path?
it was the only one left
far as i know

unexplored and un-acclaimed
i don’t understand where it goes

wishful thinking
to fly but to never soar
would take me hundreds of years
to complete it all

a much longer life is needed
than what i’ve been promised

always hated myself
for not finishing what i begin
but now i smile
now i smile at it all…
there is no sin
because perfection would have
to believe otherwise



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