a dumb poem to start

September marks the end of summer and the beginning of cooler weather, or at least it used to. The air still feels thick and I’m still carrying around the baggage of summer’s intensity. I’ve recently found sometimes it’s too taxing to make sense of my feelings or to talk them out. My brain thinks in fragments and spirals.

I’m thankful for the friends I have who have listened, hoping to give me an answer but there is no answer sometimes things just are.

I just don’t know
I don’t know what’s real
If it came to me
Would I notice
Would i analyze it to death
Through spiraled notebooks,
unlined moleskins,
late nights in empty bars
Searching for a placeholder, a release
Looking to capture like a carnival claw game
Would i know
Because it wan’t the same
I say it every time
But it wasn’t the same
Developed vocabulary,
scents of routine
a mold in my bed
It follows,
It haunts
But i look back and nothing is there
I just don’t know