Some times I worry that my mind is just going to stop.
That I will go to think but there will be nothing.
Blank. But still full.
Bursting at the capacity and weight of my thoughts. Jammed inbetween my gears, unable to let the clogs tick on.
My mind is rejigged and my thoughts move out of place. Pushing ones to the front that were growing new identities.
I feel guilt for things that I thought were forgotten months ago.
I’m sorry I let you down.
I feel shame for episodes in past years.
And embarrassment for old stories still untold.
My not so secret thoughts.
Tonight and this morning I am plagued with our time.
Short and sweet, I kicked a pup and lead a kitten along with a string. What if I’d stayed one day longer and talked one hour more.
I wonder if you’d made a difference.
And that is why you trickle through my thoughts, like a recycling waterfall I left at the store.
lost duckling poetry 