I existed

I laid back on my bed and existed.

I looked up at the ceiling fan,

I saw the dust on the fan,

and I wished I could eat it

Cause I was hungry.

I existed,

I saw the flower-shaped nail coverings on my panel ceiling.

I had my hand behind my head

and that felt good.

I had my other arm bent at a right angle,

and my legs we totally relaxed.

As they hung off the side of the bed,

I existed.

And I thought back on my day.

As I existed.

Where I played music,

Watched movies,

Ate cold refried beans and cheese

Out of a tortilla boat,

And drank sake bombs.

Smoked weed.

Walked my dog.

With no particular order or number of times to any of it,

I existed.

By taking deep breaths,

by not letting my mind move,

avoiding any thought of my day,

I existed.

I wrote an entirely different poem

than this one you’re reading.

I tried to stay still.

I tried to only exist.

By forgetting everything I was trying to remember,

Escaping my clutches on myself.

I existed.


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