rambles on the hand-me-down bicycle

into the mirror i dare to look
the frame of dust is shoddy and moldering
i search again for imperfections i've memorized.
i know where each one is and what each one looks like
but this time, i think something will change.
i'm sure something will be different.

i kind of like being stuck in between
between tasks, between passions like
you're on a half-broken hand-me-down bike you picked up off the street
and while pedaling,
the gears got jammed
and you're sailing, flying, free-falling through the air.
so much fun, only for the unpredictability

i think sometimes i deserve to take a break
no writing, drawing, organizing, typing reading building alwaysdoingsomething
maybe no thinking
and instead, i get to be the one who looks at me,
the one with little cracks that have to heal over years.

i like odd stanzas
and i like speaking freely
instead of conforming to rules and restrictions and regulations and words like that
but they like me. i don't want
to like them, but i like them too

want, want, want
all i want is this forever
but the gear finally unsticks
and i go rolling on —
on to my next task
to finish a project i've been desperately holding on to for years
i go rolling over hills
on the highest gear setting