05 : 11 am / daylight is upon us.
alexa — roll back the clock by an hour / i need to open this box of thoughts. a little bit wider.
i never know how to start these things. truthfully.
it’s never enough. & always too much / just like being alive ! / i never know if i am just too young or too
old to fully unlock all of my “potential.” & actually live / my therapist used to tell me that :
milking each moment in my life— for what it’s worth— is all i’d need to feel alive / he used to say it like
he infused some sort of magic— into each bout of exhalation / & if what i feel is what it is
supposed to be— / am i living too fast ? / am i living too slow ? / & if everything is as it should be— ¿
why do i still have this emptiness that seems like a black hole & not just space— devoid of
mass / am i living in the right direction ? / because i know what it is like to smile in every direction but
the one that matters the most — inward / ¿ do your smiles face inward. buddy.
bring me flowers / let’s talk about cartoons — while i try to find the point of this poem.
i saw an empty ticket booth a while back / empty & yet — not / i wanted to take a photograph so badly /
but to take a picture of something or someone is to preserve a version of the body / a
version that exists in one particular state — like the sight of the one you love— wearing makeup made of
moonlight / or like preserving a smile so well— that it never fades / or like a lizard
caught mid-nod / or like the point a body gets to — where pleasure becomes so real & tangible — that
eyes are closed & your heart opens up to beating in strange ways— / or storing a memory of laughter
that leaves your head thrown back— like the recoil from a gun made of vocal cords &
bloody insides / or like a volcano that only spews candy floss / photographs are beautiful /
i feel better now / i love writing. too.
Temidayo Okun [ 19 ] / likes catching snowflakes & writing flowerbombs.