it is the work that pulls me back (poem)
and I know that’s very type A of me
but there is always another chore to do a scraped knee to bandaid
a broken glass to sweep up
and even when despair buries you in
wave after wave
the laundry waits for no human.
Hide under a blanket for today, take some time
celebrate when you make it to the shower tomorrow
get a good donut to mark the occasion
and let the work pull you back little by little
this is a long game.
There are days the work is joyful, accomplishes
everything you meant to do
stands finished and shining and done
and complete and oh god those days seem so far past
and now are the days of work that are thankless
and two steps back for every one forward
and torn in seventeen directions
completed projects knocked down as soon
as the debut drape is pulled off.
I’m letting the work pull me
inch by inch
complaining all the way
until the day this all looks like
it will accomplish something again.
