I don’t cope.
I drown
in mental discourse—
stay distracted by hope,
reframed by faith.
Navigating life
in a world full of switchbacks,
hardly crawling out of one letdown
before being introduced to the next,
and then the next.
The world
sometimes feels like a simulation.
Us—
scurrying the streets,
climbing ladders not meant for us,
disguising ourselves so well
even our own shadows
couldn’t pick us out.
Controlled by the letdowns
and the crises of life,
loss,
love.
Merciless in the moment.
Broken later on.
So you ask
what strategies I use
to cope with negative thoughts.
I suppose
I thread the words
on the screen—
a release
only my fingertips
can unlock.
The page
is the only place
the noise makes sense.
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