something sensitive

Okay. I am feeling a bit down. I can admit that to myself and acknowledge that I can feed the bummer by trying to figure it out with my thoughts. I roll it a few inklings of self doubt, “What am I doing with my life?” Now it's interested and has started to sink its teeth in, “Shit, I've got all kinds of stuff to do.” Now its little face is covered in crumbs. I can keep feeding the little guy until it eats itself to death.
I got bored. It died. I start to feel hopeful.
I may or may not appreciate a literary personification.
but i'm kind of stuck in one.
like wearing a mask of a mask.

Hopeful for what. New joys to catch in my greedy net. More joy more love more happiness. No not that again. I enjoy my core. I enjoy sensation in my pelvic floor. Sometimes I get so sad down there. Sometimes so sweet. I can grow accustomed. I can also grow. Hello(kindly) you have a choice. That is new. Kind of, but you know.
I can drop expectations. I can drop my shoulders. I would like for you to know that I love you. I want you to know that I love you. Parts that are grasping for God: what silliness is this? Love in stillness.

safflower and cottonseed
all i know is that i've formed some thoughts
on how
these oils aren't very good for
your body
but they sound like nice enough words
as they crawl into my half-sleep and
i might give
them to the box of unspeakable terms of endearment
where they settle
down my spine, in my hands
i am holding on to thoughts of you before bed
it sounds like sex
but is not
is not sex
its knot.
sex
all of this has nothing
and everything to do with you

i guess we are both between those
realizing the lie,
the hoax of loneliness;
felt good