Thoughts on a Saturday Morning

I sit on the porch at 5 am
brewed too-strong caramel pecan coffee

too much cream and sugar
like I prefer it

it's quiet but cars on their way to work
are already disrupting this

I am
a bizarre surge of energy
the caffeine exacerbates

I want to write a poem

shower and put on a long floral dress
do my makeup with utter precision
and feel utterly beautiful

though I am anything but

walk swiftly to the edge of the property
where the sprawling oak meets the country road

wave excitedly at passersby
while the wind whips at my flowing flowery dress

hop in the car and go save animals
and children

something, anything to run away from

this emptiness

that reminds me of who I really am
the anomaly that is me
different from others

though I always wished it were not so

and not deserving of love
or happiness

but something within me stills
even my hands retract

because once a brilliant poet I know
said to let a poem stew for a day or two
even a week

not to manifest oneself too early
though I have never been successful at this

and he publishes prolifically
while at best I am
an accidental poet

so I'll go back to bed
begin again in a few hours

but this time paint myself
slowly and methodically
not splatter myself
upon the world

I only hope
I don't stop breathing in my sleep
and miss out on the chance to do

something truly
and furiously beautiful

with this strange, sad canvas
of a life I was given