sit-ups with a crunch, ow
i can't be getting rusty
my mind likes to constantly interject
why even consciously think at all,
feels. exhausting, maybe?
thoughts are bullshit.
there's a million of them in one day,
and by the next,
maybe two days later
i'm thinking something opposite
or forgot i thought it in the first place.
stupid, fucking thoughts.
there aren't thoughts
there aren't even words
when i just sit.
stop the clock.
one day i sat and saw my core
in a tree
that singular line,
thoughts were fallen leaves.
a spine, a linear solo path
to grow. not to think. to move
and leave ridges and rings behind.
fucking peaceful, that was
when i can block out the entire world
bumping into me, shouting around me
stepping on my toes,
i'm the most powerful woman in the entire world.
save my thoughts for when i dream.
there's much more space to think freely