It promises to a helluva year
And I will do what I can to do those things
That will make me a better man.
I will stop talking about myself in gender-confusing ways
I'll eat only my prescribed 1200 calories a day and
waste away, mind first
I'll speak more and write
Even more than that
We have to keep the ratio right
I'll set aside my need for
snugly love and lean into
leather lashes, properly provided
Pretend harder that I wouldn't be
Equally confused and undecided
Even if I had a picket fence & puppy
I will make more effort to learn
the purpose and power, to yearn
for the rhyme. I'll own it.
I will tear down the paper thin walls
that looked like steel for years
I'll be consistent in my stanza
My love will always be consistent
Consistently there, waiting, wondering
Wandering, hopeless like a child
I'll stand as still as I need to and listen to the rush of wind. I will predict the acorn falling. I'll know what it's all for.
I'll finally get over the failure of my mother, although I'll never forgive her. I'll describe her deeds in detail and publish them all over the cloud.
I'll tell the story
of the mountain of me
and how I got to be
I'll own it
because I'm that strong.
I'll stand still
and let the children climb over me.
I will laugh
my signature hearty chuckle
and it will shake the trees
And I'll say, "I called that one."
And it won't matter at all.
And we'll smile all the same.
The pain is part of it. This we know.
But look! Look.
There it is.