Plan Z : A Poem

Plan Z

 

Plans have never worked for me

All the color-coded lists are only figments of control

These pens in my hand have no power

 

Balled up paper on the floor tells my life story

Constantly rewritten

Red pen marks everywhere

 

Mid-Sentence stops because the plan didn’t even make it that far

Before whiteout was needed

Because once again things have changed

 

My hand hurts from re-writing

And each edit makes me feel like I’m losing another part of myself

Plan C felt doable

But that was so long ago

 

Plan Z is less promising

I’ve learned to start writing in pencil

Leaving the page blank feels like giving up

But I’m tired of erasing

 

 

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