write something real i told myself
write something people understand
something they can relate to

but is my rhythm not real
is being misunderstood not the realest i could get
to being human, to being me
relation is chosen
is it not?

i dreamt of white clouds
burning and drifting into flames
i dreamt of the world ending
i lucid dreamt, i experienced a false awakening for the first time in my life
i woke up more than three times but yet i was still,
dreaming.

i saw a butterfly over the river
while i was sitting on the top deck of a luxurious ship
and i swear that butterfly followed me
followed the entire ride until the captain dropped the anchor
orange and black,
i believe it to have been my grandpa
who passed away in 2007, just like i had believed
when i was younger
that he was that butterfly, orange and black
watching over me.

i fulfill sexual desires, not particularly knowing why.
i meditate.

breathe.

i believe i’m transforming
i believe i’m worthy
i believe i’m beautiful
i believe i’m inspiring

breathe.

i’m an anxious person
i use many outlets to keep my mind
at bay
yet it never stops.