I felt it today:
a racing heart.
I am not my vita.
I am not my vita.
Chant a mantra.
I am not my vita.
But if I’m not—
what am I?
Racing.
I need to be exceptional.
How do I unlearn
that all I am
is what I am
on paper?
I need that paper
to say that I’m
exceptional.
Racing.
I need to be outstanding
to meet the minimum
criteria that mean
I’m an adequate
member of
society.
I need to.
No one else.
Everyone else
can be human.
And is that smart?
Heart.
It doesn’t make sense.
Racing.
I need to be the best
to be acceptable.
I need to be the best
to be worthwhile.
It doesn’t make sense.
Slow my racing heart.
Show me I can learn
that I am not my vita,
that I am beyond the
words on paper.
Show me I can learn
that I need not be exceptional,
that I need not be outstanding
to be an acceptable human being.
I am human,
and I am
allowed
to be.