you think that you're changing

you think that you're changing.

you wake up at night, and stare yourself down in the mirror for a long minute,
tracing the someday crow's feet and acne scars,
think about shaving those quixotic patterns of facial hair
(which just remind you of dad, who has always had a full beard)
but don't, boil water for tea and forget about it,
read a book but get bored, there's nothing immediate but peanut butter,

you brush your teeth again and you think that you're changing.

you think that you're changing.

you wake up at noon, and fritter the day away dreaming big thoughts,
big important thoughts, the ones that prevent you from doing anything,
the big unanswerable questions, the vague feelings which keep you lazy
but creative, you need to be creative, but it doesn't even feel very good
your ideas have been disappearing and then it's 3 and you go for a run
and they come back, but then when you're home the sun is down
and you have things to do at night the mindless tasks of life
the notebooks laying open on your desk

you push the papers aside and you think that you're changing.

you wake up at seven, eat a piece of bread and bike to work
where you sit for 8 hours, lost in a fog (and headphones)
thinking big important thoughts, all the things you want
to do but can't because you're at work
you make a lot of money, bike home and buy expensive beer
you keep thinking about the important things but get drunk

you fall asleep with all the lights on and you think that you're changing.