Keeping Order In My Backpack, Or Rather: Failing At It

Written by Friederike Wiessner.

i adapt

to the circumstances around me

i am a guest, less free—

i am nice, sincerely try to be

my gratitude is deep-felt

i start believing (myself) that this is a home

unpaid for, except for

me being nice, me spending time

with serenity in compromise

fold-out beds and couches

dig their claws into my back

oh how my ribs burn

i am treated with reverence

fairy-tale princess

awake on piled stacks

of too-soft mattresses

awkwardness like dried peas

scores of layers

underneath

my vertebrae talk

thank you for your blow-up mattress

my stomach speaks

i would very much like some toast with hummus

served on a kitchen napkin

my lungs breathe

thank you for sharing your blunt with me

eyes dark blue pools and light blue skies

my departure hovers

over the clouds we breathe out

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s