I am so nervous, unaccustomed
to the seriousness of my recent thoughts.
Nothing has mattered for a long time now,
but I am changing.
I’m beginning to care once more
when for eons I have given myself over to numbness,
resigned myself to apathy.
Now a curious sickness has crept in,
filling my mind with plans and action words.
Wishful thinking has bubbled up from somewhere
deep inside that I had forgotten about because
for so long it had been hidden.
It bubbled up and the feelings are so strong
that I can’t eat and I am exhausted
with the wild energy that belongs
to children or romantics.
I am neither of those things: I doubt, I mistrust.
Time passes, I have grown;
time passes, I am jaded.
So what do I call this jittery, rambunctious,
spirited, frightening, brash and chaotic
feeling I have inside of me?