What I’m Telling Myself These Days
I really am.
I can get the kids ready for school,
eat my breakfast,
spend the day sending torrents of code
sputtering into cyberspace
where they flutter around
until they become dollar bills
and lines of credit.
Fueled by coffee
I can actually pretend
I’m a human and not a ghost.
I can be grateful for the connections I have,
grieve the ones I’ve lost,
and write away the loneliness
with fantasy and poetry,
stage an escape from the prison of my mind
into the dreams of imagination.