Flat

A poem about feeling ‘meh’

A few people have said to me that I should publish poems individually instead of doing a few at once which is what I normally do.

It always feels a bit weird to do that, for some reason it makes me feel more self conscious. I suppose when I post 4 at once I think “well there’s better odds that one will chime with someone ….”

But deep down, I know that’s silly.

So, this poem is about the feeling of ‘flat’. Some people like stability, even if it’s boring. Others - like myself - like a bit of drama and excitement. However, when you’re trying to be a ‘responsible’ adult, especially if you have kids, it can’t be just all about you, can it?

Flat

Worst is when I wake up

And I want to tell you something

Share some random dream I had

Chitchat over nothing

Now, I keep it to myself

I must get used to that

Life, it had its ups and downs

But suddenly……

.

It’s flat

.

Every day a factory

And not sure who the boss is

No bonuses to play for

But at least I’ve cut my losses

If life is but ‘a gift’

Why does it feel like doing shift work?

Trudging endless staircases

One eye out for the lift

.

Clocking in and clocking out

But never knocking off

Turning up and churning out

Just doesn’t feel enough

Beige is all the rage it seems

I much prefer my red

If it’s my fate to fade to grey

How will I know I’m dead?

.

Could I still feel butterflies

Or have they flown my belly?

If I heard the right voice

Would my legs still turn to jelly?

If there’s a test for ‘human’

How can I be sure I’d pass?

Would someone look into my eyes

Suppose them to be glass?

.

Flat is what we wish for

When we tire of rollercoasters

Sick of all the twists and turns

A welcome mediocre

But a straight line’s not a life line

At its simplest, it’s existence

Never taking gambles

Is the path of least resistance

.

I want to smell my fear rise up

Like summer scorches tar

Taste nuance in the salt of tears

Like whiskies in a bar

Gasp as wild wind whips me

Feel traffic as it clips me

Dancing close to danger

Puts a smile upon my lips

.

How to carve a curve

In surface tension til it breaks

Need to hold my nerve

Instead of cursing my mistakes

I’ll surf each arc of chance

Because I’d rather drown at sea

On the crest of something magic

That’s a closer fit to me

Photo is my own

PS: Thanks for reading. I now have more than 400 pieces on substack. If this poem speaks to you, you can find more under the headings ‘poetry’ on my home page. You can also share, leave a thoughtful comment, ‘buy me a coffee’ or take out a paid subscription to support my writing should you wish.