I don’t know why I take great pleasure in continuing to try to work it out
ha ha ha
when no one else has ever worked it out before
ha ha ha
and no one after will be able to do so either and yet and yet and yet I keep turning my head, keep turning my neck to face myself between my fingers upset and analytical and overwhelmed with emotions that I can only sing or dance or cry or write out and nobody will understand all this, not like I do, not like I think I do, not like I wish I did
ha ha ha
which starts the cycle all over again because if I can’t understand it why not, and if I can when will I, and who am I to not inherently know and am I anyone, and am I alive right now at all
ha ha ha
if I’m not feeling any pain when pain is all I can recognize and peace seems to be with a magnifying glass in tow rushing toward my thoughts about myself and love and failing miserably to understand but believing if I can be confused I must still be able to learn some more still,
ha ha ha
feel still,
ha ha ha
hurt still,
ha ha ha
breathe still
ha

…and change still
so I keep going inside where it’s darkest and looking for the answer
ha ha ha
if there is an answer to be had
ha ha ha
under all the schema and shame and fear and heartbeats and I wonder
ha ha ha
how long I’ll wonder at all
ha ha ha
and this pleases me because
ha ha ha
every bit of it makes me laugh