i am not a poet.

a constant flurry of mind wandering chaos.

and utter avoidance.

surrounded my mess and obstacles of my own making, both literal and figurative.

i sit and listen to quiet.

and noise.

but a repetitive drumming of sound.

and it isn't noise.

but the utter avoidance, of all that i need to do.

and the things that i won't.

although i am seated and still, my mind is dancing a terrible jig.

and i cannot dance.

as i sit and search my heart.

and wonder what i am afraid of, and why i am choosing avoidance.

confusion tops the list of everything.

but peace is found in the knowledge of knowing.

i am loved.