Original

A Poem

Photo by Brandon Green on Unsplash

I am not a lot of things

I am not a wellspring of empathy
nor a hotbed of excitement

I am not angry at the world
nor content with the state of it

I am not what you think I am
nor what I think I am

but if there’s one thing I know
it’s
that
I am
original

Lost in a circus of mimeography
I spill words like a cup of water
into that plant in the corner of the room
to bring it back to life
with the remnants of my mouth

Undeterred by this cacophonous copy culture
I scrawl longhand in quill antiquity
while dripping ink from my pores
until my blood is dry
and my words sticky

I am not a lot of things

I am not overly concerned with your feelings
nor am I uniquely in-tune with mine

I am not drowned by all I’ve lost
nor do I have my head above water