I would eat
if I were hungry.
 
I would drink
if I were thirsty.
 
I would sleep
if I were tired.
 
I would read
if I were curious.
 
So I write...
 
For what reason?
Do I value being heard
or do I just fancy playing with words?
Do I value expression
or do I know too well
the hell
that accompanies repression?
Am I seeking answers
or living the question?
Is this about acceptance
or  validation?
What are my intentions?
Connection
or Separation?
Does it matter?
Am I willing to enjoy these moments of creation?
 
I’m playing 'God’ with keyboard and screen
via digital machine
through a social network
my thoughts travel forth
I’m in no control
over how these words will be received
whether others will be triggered or relieved
 
as I expose my soul
with no particular goal
in mind
besides
my urge
to vomit and purge
potentially toxic thoughts
from this mind that ‘ought
to understand by now
that sometimes the ’how’
and 'why’
will keep me up for hours at night
 
squirming around
tossing and turning
racing in circles
forever yearning
for answers to riddles
that conceal life’s mysteries
and if found and revealed,
would kill the curiosity
that keeps our spirits alive
allows us to thrive
and stand up against
a system that torments
those who create
and innovate
who think for themselves
not buying what 'they’ sell
'their" empty jars of happiness
full of selfish dreams
and cowardice
denying the power we possess
to see openness as strength
and saving face as weakness
oh, but I digress!
 
I would eat
if I were hungry.
 
I would drink
if I were thirsty.
 
I would sleep
if I were tired.
 
I would lie down
if I weren’t so awake.

(2014)

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Cory Garcia
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