A Poem a Day (748): I on repeat

 
I on repeat
 
I spend a lifetime searching for the imperfect perfect muse.
I treasure everything as if each something I’m fated to lose.
 
I consume as if this could be my final meal.
I am oblivious to the agenda behind any deal.
 
I sleep as if sleeping is an Olympic sport.
I pay all the bills, secure my space in my living fort.
 
I read with a microscope digging for inspiration.
I walk in fine rain feeling a washed-in elation.
 
I turn up early as if it will make a difference.
I cry at every ending and then hope to bounce.
 
I read menus a dozen times before choosing.
I hold on too long because I’m too scared of losing.
 
I worry I might regret choosing the wrong thing.
I greet everyone with the same shy, lopsided grin.
 
I end up picking the same thing every time I order.
I live in uncluttered spaces, try not to be a hoarder.
 
I pluck stray hairs as if anyone notices anything so small.
I live it, love it, want it to last forever, but forget it all.
 
I collect empty boxes because oxygen is the most precious thing.
I buy simple things, avoiding the loud, too glossy and bling.
 
I breathe deeply, inhale slowly, blink three times for luck.
I wish I could relive every earthmoving, heartbreaking f-ck.
 
I sit in the shade in case the sun burns away truth.
I rethink, re-evaluate seeking the undeniable proof.
 
I colour outside the edges to feel more free.
I wonder at our struggle to be what we want to be.
 
I count the stars just because it’s impossible.
I know my failure to make time last is laughable.
 
I rule the 3mm space around my own contours.
I learn from closure and look out for held-open doors.
 
I bed down to keep the chaos and noise at bay.
I listen to silence because it has the most to say.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 14, 2026