it seems to me
that breathing deeply
and counting to ten
just gives them
another opportunity
to irritate me
even more

Good morning    body
I called you in for a meeting
    because
you can’t sleep                         again
and I just wanted to tell you
        you don’t already seem to know
and no one can read your writing
you already know what you’re wearing tomorrow and you’ll pay the gallery in the morning

and    it's all fine
and you’re very much allowed to yawn     sigh    or take a
deep breath    

I know January keeps trying to go on
and on and on and on
like you’re not already over it
a few weeks ahead of yourself
like we’re not all stuck in Deja-vu
despite the fact that it’s fun to type out
soothing repetition
like a hot tea lavender oil or the last smile on the page
like a consoling yoga chant

it’s time you heard this
where are the words you’re hiding?
when you sit down and say you can’t do this again
I will tell you     I think this might be growing
it was you under the pile of clothes the whole time
holding the remote
murmuring prophetically in the corner
it was you    you see
you already said
you’re everything you know
you’re everything you need

Good morning    body
I called you in to talk to me
for us to meet each other

letters to yourself are the new shopping list

or at least
they’re calming to write when you can’t sleep.

When someone asks you
"what did you do today?",
I hope you know it's okay
if your biggest accomplishment
is being able to say "I breathed."

Sit by the fire.
Drink with your friends.
Forget about the fact that you're a liar.
Maybe someday they'll know.
You can't help but admire
The faces who sit beside you.
You get teary thinking about when they expire.
But they can't see that.
They can't see your brain becoming rewired

He leaves little wild fires
As he trails his fingers along my skin
And softly breathes life back into me.
Is this love?