you thought you had more time

You see the first sign of a problem
emerge,
a blemish on a previously spot-free
canvas.

You tell yourself
that you should have it fixed,
addressed,
while it’s still small
before it becomes something bigger.

Time goes by
the blemish is still there
but unchanged.
You remind yourself
of the need to have it fixed.

Then
without warning
it’s no longer a blemish.

Despite your intentions
it has grown into the bigger problem
you imagined happening
but naively assumed
you had more time
because things had stayed the same for this long already.

Now, it’s undeniable,
the problem demanding your attention
engulfing the canvas.

All because
you thought you had more time
and you believed things would stay the same.

thank you for being you

When I become stuck in comparison
between me and her
or me and them
or me and that
I remember this summer
when my uncle hugged me and whispered,
“thank you for being you”
and I remind myself
what a gift I am, just as I am,
and my neck becomes a little taller
my chest proud
and I say to myself,
“thank YOU for being YOU.”

empty beer bottles

Empty beer bottles line the windowsill,
collecting dust down through their necks
to mix in with the last few drops of alcohol
not consumed,
nor rinsed out and down the sink.

Lined up in a row
they tell a story of the evenings past
filling our stomachs with barley and malt
until they reached our minds
and made us feel better.

Some are yours, some are mine,
but we drank them together
talking, smiling and laughing,
liking each other.
For me, at least.

How many beers will it take
for us to tell each other
how we really feel?