my time Poem, by robin jayne, at My poetic side

in my time

i make my room smell pretty

incense and candles and sage

i clean

i make my bed and i put away my sketchbooks

in my time

i get high

i disappear from myself for a little bit

i write in my journal

pages and pages about boys

i rest

i close my eyes and dream of italy

in my time

i create, i make music

i draw and paint until my hand cramps up

canvas and paper and walls of color

i imagine

a world dominated by peace and equality

and i put that shit down in pen

in my time

i dress up

i pretend i’m barbie and i try on different outfits

i pour makeup down my face and tear my hair out

i have a solo fashion show, stuffed animals an audience

in my time

i think, and think

i romanticize tragic things i’ve gone through and i create new scenarios

i believe myself more confident and beautiful and intelligent

it’s my time

and i have so much of it

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