A few minutes ago I switched to Times New Roman
And I still haven’t done anything but write these sentences
I’d like to think I’m trying to make some kind of connection
Or some kind of correction
To something tangible for once but
All I can do is come up with words
That are meaningless to me
Yet I can’t turn them off
Until they mean
too much
And I thought this time
if I switched to Times New Roman
It would make me write something that
wouldn’t lead me back to my
faulty projections
And faulty reflections
Or make me go off in some stupid direction
That would make me actually have to think
Or maybe I’m not thinking at all
I can’t remember
I know if I stop writing right now I will have to
Go back to some summer I never had
But was told to write about
And I always do what I’m supposed to do
Because if I don’t then I won’t do something great
The fake kind
The kind you get from spending your life following instructions
And now I’m starting to think
About how I might not really be thinking right now
And this entire time I’ve gone off on a tangent
I just want to imagine
That I could actually give something meaning intentionally
That I could write something about butterflies and it would be beautiful
And so would my eyes
Or my lips or the words that come from the back of my throat
Instead of my stomach
Because the words from my stomach are making it hard to move
And one day I want to explore
But for now
I’m stuck in Times New Roman