somes (suhm•z)

Normal. The idea

pushes you forward,

stains your tongue

red. Normal proceeds to

get stuck in hyperspeed

and see its way

far away from me.

I launch into,

Someday.

...

I, am exactly

the tangle you

would imagine

forms in your

old Apple headphones

when

combining

2Chainz and

Etta James

and John

Coltrane and

Fleetwood Mac

on a playlist.

Chaos. Absolute,

chaos.

Not knowing

where to look,

or even listen. Just..

a lot to take in.

I move like that.

With the sentiment

of a lot, tucked in

to the tiny body

of my 5 ft

(and One proud Inch)

frame holding all it

can in and equally

pushing out.

...

I am not good

at math but I

make a mean playlist.

Bitter, sweet,

both without

shame.

I seem to have

confused the suggestions

in my music;

they haven't solved

where to

send me.

...

The balance is hard.

But once out stretched,

it's hard to wriggle

all the way free. Bring it

back to center. You get used

to the pushing

and pulling,

all by

yourself.

Somedays

you don't even

mind

it. But someday

is not everyday, is

not yesterday,

or today. Someday

doesn't always happen

like we say it will.

Sometimes,

someday,

is just to make

that day

feel more fitting: like

a body bag.

...

My thoughts haven't solved

where to

send me.

I am not good

at cooking but I

sure can

make a meal,

out of

a conviction.

...

"Something else

will come; Someone

Else, will come." Someday

they will know,

where to send

me, and I will

have already

blasted off

into the Next,

Someday.