Poem: It is not quite what it is expected to be,

It is not quite what it is expected to be,

whichever thing you expect, but
it is also both, and it is also
other things, or nothing, maybe.
I don't trust myself, is the problem,
at least not in knowing
if it is good or right
or anything more
than just a silly game
I played one night
when I was alone
and sitting there.
I am never sure
and that is the way.
I have to trust 
that there is a process
and enjoy that
and be fine 
with what it is
that arises,
but I am not good
at that part,
not really.
I just do it
and keep going
and don't think
of what else
that means.
It is like running
from your death.

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