September 25, 2020

6:45pm, N Howard Street and W 26th Street, Baltimore, MD

There isn't a lot to be said about today, about this week. I desire to write poetry but continue to find myself lacking for the words. Waiting to be seen as worthy and rejecting all mentions of my worth. Dancing with or without an agenda. I can feel my brain melt as my muscles twitch to remind me of my electricity. Desperate and patient in the same breath. I began this day with synapses firing, searching for desire. Lust is a hunger that cannot be satiated. I lust for much in my life. Saying it is what it is only simulates contentment. But it's all just a simulation anyway. Circles and limbs and slipping balance and car sounds and slow rain drops and fading light and the anticipation of dinner and mosquitoes and there's a bunch of bottled water discarded next to this fence where I attempt to dance. Day two hundred sixty-nine.