digital meditation

on the days i forget to breath,
don't forget to forgive me,
that linear congregation,
the nave full of trees,
pointing directly into a one-point singular perspective,

we are all some sort of singular perspective

don't carry kicked up dust in your back pocket,
and don't go tying guilt to your gunnysack of wandering aspirations,

on the days i forget to breath,
don't mimic me nor abandon my senseless stream spinning cycle,
i'm staring into the sky to show you i can be helpless at times,
i can be so startlingly human that my tunnel vision kicks back full force,
writing poems on the underside of my scar tissue to hide behind old wounds i kept picking at in attempts to never let them properly heal,
just so i could have a story to tell later on

we are all some sort of story

on the days i forget to breath,
when i'm scribbling letters on the starchy parchment,
a thousand jotting pencil strokes per heartbeat,
remind me why it's time to slow down and not feel so spring tensioned

this life is nothing short of a wayfarer's paradise,
bumping along the sometimes rigid tangent lines of an egg that probably wishes it were a perfect sphere,
but our magnetic poles pull at both ends,
stretch us out so wearily thin,
sometimes

so on the days i forget to breath,
please pull me in