Same Old Story

Posted: August 31, 2014 in Uncategorized

She wants reasoned explanations for involuntary mechanisms.

 

I can’t tell her why I sometimes prefer solitude to company

any more than I can explain my craving for chocolate.

 

I tell her anxiety is just a fancy form of fear

like panic dressed up for a picnic.

 

I tell her the higher you go the further away you travel from your center

and every breath you take takes you closer to the heart of your matter

so much living leaves so little life

the strife leaves you stricken and exhausted

 

you’re surrounded by the cure.

 

I tell her it’s a long story

and an old one.

 

She tells me short stories are best.

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