I’m not impressive in your thoughts
I seem to become
some mailable taffy in your eyes
something needing to be wrapped up
a little too neatly
for my mess seems like a chore
as if this is a mess
as if I am a mess
as if all this life I’ve lived
will become your mess
I am at peace with the living I’ve done
I am at ease within my own atmosphere
however disastrous it all seems
I still sail
I continue picking up what is necessary
and leaving behind what is not
I enjoy living
and I know
it’s enough
recognition, good to read. I know this setiment. 🙂