WrenMW

Mindfullness: A collection of poems

Busy

To do list:

I haven’t done that yet. I probably should.

Haven’t done that either. I know I should.

I had one of those- completely forgot about it.

I’ll do it after the math.

What good is working out if it only makes me sore?

I should do it anyway.

Don’t want to get fat.

Forgot to do that again.

No big deal, I’ll eat a big dinner. Missing one meal won’t hurt me, right?

She must be worried; we haven’t talked in a while.

I wonder if they miss me.

I didn’t finish my homework; I don’t have the time.

I’m too busy for this too.

Why am I so busy?

I haven’t talked to them in a while.

Hope they’re doing okay.

I don’t have the time.

Too busy.

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Working out

I got up this morning to work out

The ache of my mind

Waking up far to early

It was unpleasant at first

I have to do this

 

I’m not just doing this because I want to

I’m not crazy like someone I know

I have to do this

Otherwise, what I’m working towards will be all for nothing

I can do this

 

I got up again this morning

It was easier than before

The ache of my muscles kept me bed ridden for the weekend

But I managed to get up again

Maybe I can do this

 

The workout was easier than last time,

My muscles don’t ache as much

The energizing state I’m left in is rewarding

I didn’t think I would get this far

I’m actually doing this

 

What a pleasant surprise.

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Dependence

What am I doing?

Looking at a screen?

The clock said 10pm the last time I checked.

Is it really 2 in the morning?

Might as well stay up.

 

When was the last time I spoke to them?

Did I remember to text him back

Does she think I’m ignoring her?

Better like their post.

What was I doing again?

 

It’s not even that entertaining.

The dopamine hit is only temporary.

Like a drug addiction,

Something I can’t put down.

Though I want to, deeply.

 

I can’t look away.

Someone take it away from me.

It’s power is too alluring.

I’ve been trained to follow its demands.

Those damn notifications.

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Depths of a Puddle

I feel like it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

Why can’t I have the passion you have? You love what you do.

Everyone found their perfect pair. Their self-actualization. Their meaning.

And someone above was lazy, saying “This is close enough.” 

 

Everyone says they feel like this too,

But I don’t believe them.

Look at their face while they paint, research, play music.

Their face lights up, brighter than star I’ve ever seen.

 

Am I supposed to feel like that?

Should I have something that fills me with passion and happiness like that?

It feels like mine are mediocre hobbies,

Like my deepest interests are no different than the hobby you picked up “just cuz”.

 

Am I supposed to feel like this?

Drowning in a sea? This doesn’t feel like a sea…

A lake? A pond? A puddle.

It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.

 

Probably just a puddle.

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Excuses

I’m sorry.

I had slept in that morning

Forgot to fall asleep that night.

Dark circles resting

Like bags of sand holding my eyes open

To see your disappointed faces

Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.

 

I’m sorry.

I forget to check my messages

Which I often ignore by choice.

or was this one of the times

I did it by accident?

I often can’t tell.

Sorry. I left my phone on silent.

 

I’m sorry.

I hurt you, didn’t I?

I didn’t mean to I swear

I forgot you feel it too.

I don’t have a reason this time

Sorry.

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Girl’s Best Friend

I miss my dog

I miss his barks

The scratches at the back door

The whines at the window

I miss the sounds he made

 

I miss my dog

I miss his presence

The boney yet soft frame of his body

His comforting warmth

I miss his hugs if you can call them that

 

I miss my dog

I miss his love

The unwavering loyalty he gave me

The endless affection he provided

I miss his unconditional love

 

It reminds me that other love is conditional.

Makes me miss him more.

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Unknown 

You scare me.

Your consuming presence fills me with terror

Your eternal existence sends shivers down my back

Your childish games make me pull my hair out

Your bright presence fills me with warmth

Your warm body is comforting

Your beautiful appearance makes me flustered

Your wonderfulness makes me self-conscious

Your kind words make that disappear

Your feelings fill my blood with anxiety

Your reassurance quells the worry in my vanes

You’re everything.

You still scare me.

That feeling of unsureness.

Not knowing what is to come.

That scares me,

Not you.

It scares me, not you.

Never you.

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Transitions

I never thought that the seasons would impact me so.

 

How the colors of the leaves shift

Green, yellow, orange, red.

Then falling

Down,

            Down,

                        Down,

                                    Resting on solid earth.

The tree it came from sprouted from it too.

 

How the naked trees sit silently through the winter

Covered in freezing snow and ice

Their loving tones muffled by the thick blanket

Resting their voices for the warmth of spring

 

Then suddenly, albeit slowly

A burst of color erupts from the ground

The flowers loudly motivating the trees to refresh their wardrobe

And dress their branches with new budding leaves

 

Now stepping foot here, I miss those things more than I thought,

The transitions of the seasons.

They made the transition here more noticeable.

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Not Alone

I’m not alone, am I?

There are people in every corner,

Their peering eyes don’t feel so intrusive anymore

The supportive hands of my dad on my left shoulder

The loving tears of my mom falling onto the right one

The warm gazes of the people I love

My brothers, my sisters, my grandparents,

Aunts, uncles, friends, teachers.

I can feel their presence

Even from across the country

I’m not alone.

Never truly alone.

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Mindfullness

Do you think birds know their songs are beautiful?

We hear them every morning,

Walking to class, hair still rustled from sleep.

Sleep we were enjoying just 5 minutes prior.

Maybe they sound annoying in those moments,

But they are beautiful none the less.

 

Do you think your parents know you miss them?

Do you miss them?

I think you might, to some degree. I miss mine.

My dad’s stupid jokes, always making me laugh,

The loving embrace of my mom’s arms,

Her cooking…

I probably miss that the most.

 

Do you think your friends hate you?

I hope mine don’t.

Sometimes I think they might, my mind overtakes me.

Putting words in their mouths.

Words they would never say.

I don’t want them to hate me.

I don’t think they do.

My mind just gets crowded sometimes with these thoughts.

 

Do you think it will ever be quiet?

I don’t think so,

Maybe when I die it will be

The noises just collect

Even with no thought there is a white noise in the background

Never quite silent.

I’ve gotten used to it. That noise.

At this point,

Silence might be more terrifying