Some Things I Know Are True

I am afraid of being forgotten.

Not after death — I mean now,

while I am here and speaking

and hoping someone is listening

well enough to remember.

I want to matter to someone

in the specific way that means

they thought of me today

for no reason,

while doing something ordinary,

and it made them glad.

I am sometimes so lonely

I am amazed I can stand upright.

It passes. Everything passes.

But while it is here,

it is the only thing that is here.

I have wasted time I cannot have back.

I know which time. I don't need

to name it to feel the weight of it,

sitting in my chest like a stone

That is not a stone — I said no metaphors.

Sitting in my chest. Just that.

I need people more than I admit

and admit it less than I should.

That is a pattern I am aware of

and have not yet changed.

Beauty stops me cold.

A particular slant of afternoon light.

A sentence that gets it exactly right.

The fact that anything exists at all

rather than nothing —

I cannot get over this.

I try to, and I cannot.

I am going to die.

So are you.

I think about this more than seems normal

And I think normal is probably the wrong standard here.

I love being alive.

Even now.

Even still.

Especially when I am paying attention,

which I am trying to do more,

which is the whole project,

which is all I have to report.