This is all I have

All I can do is flow with my current state of being which alters ever so often. The flowing can get quite truncated, more often than not. It is what it is. I'll paraphrase Martin Shaw who quoted or paraphrased Carl Jung: Your signature will fall off of any document you sign before 35. I'm not 35. Not too close, but not far off either. Martin would say you don't have enough crow marks on your face. That number, 35, can be a different number. I don't exactly know where I am in that regard. In any case, I am somewhere where I can finally relax some trauma muscles, without the extreme need to justify my every thought and move, action and pre-action, trying to stay ahead of every muscle jerk, my own and other's. ‘Careful! The way you moved your hand holding the glass of water, made it obvious you thought you were placing the glass on the worktop, but unaware, you were obviously going to place it beside the worktop, having it fall to the ground, crash and splash.’ Justification to myself only.

So after three decades, I realised and accepted, a bit, that the way I can contribute anything to anyone is through these poems, so personal and intimate, so much about my childhood and self-centred. It gets me anxious. So many other people put stuff out there that's less personal than what I've been writing these last few years. But then, it's still personal and some of these people were 35 decades ago. I have these questions of how can I help, with what I do, the people, all of the people that are going through everything they are. I can't help them all, I can't even pretend I can help someone, not one. I can barely help myself. I'm sorry, this is all I have. Some poems in which I hope, at least a few people can relate to.