My mind always defeats itself.
This is not because I’m a smart person,
For then my mind would always win,
But my mind loses—to itself!
This is because I’m a quiet person;
Quiet is the worst trait of all; Blake
Said lack of energy is the only sin.
He’s right, unfortunately.
I even noticed it with my poetry.
My poems internally contradict
Themselves, subtly, strangely,
Even as I consciously pound my theme.
I wandered after an attractive man in a dream
Who I thought was ugly, like me.
I’m not ugly. I just don’t see
How others see me,
Until it’s too late. But I am ugly;
No, perhaps it depends. I live my dreams in my poetry,
Which is not a bad thing, except this
Makes me quiet. I don’t need to kiss
Anything, but I do.
I’m quiet. My mind is thinking how it can know your mind. Or you.