three years at the word depot

it has been
three years
since i found myself
pulled
beneath the surface
of the river of words
three years
four thousand poems
soon to be four books
twenty two times
published.

yet still
i feel
like an imposter.

ever since
i pulled the chain
to light up
the neon
manic word depot sign
in the front window
i have become
the person
i think
i was supposed to be
but then why
does my skin fit
awkwardly
over the knots
within my soul?

maybe
the answers will come
in the next
four thousand odes
to feeling lost
in my own mind.

5 thoughts on “three years at the word depot

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