feel like i am plagarizing myself lately

the same bittersweet regrets and wants filling every pensive ode

it is short term amnesia

waking up and forgetting these desires have always been there

i’ve fallen so many times

it is more relaxing mid-plummet than trying to stand on wobbly legs

so many misses i’ve lost sight of what type i was originally pursuing

the poet with her words of wonder

someone more grounded in reality

tall or short

round or thin

have i always been pursuing one like the preacher’s daughter from high school

or one of the many that didn’t even register my existence

one like the many that fell in love with one of my friends and i was just a means to an end

do i wish i would have understood when there was something i couldn’t see so plainly in front of my face

never knowing until it was too late and realizing i had probably felt the same

i know the mystical her i write about doesn’t want anything to do with me

she can tell i don’t either

so she vanishes into shadows to dodge my dogged pursuit

so i’m going to go quiet until i’m no longer plagarizing myself

living with anemic amnesia