Trevor Abes: Writer

Tag: moving on

Everything is Personal

There’s nothing personal about people 

Gatekeeping their lives

Even if you cried at their weddings

Looked after their cats

Shared meals at their tables

Because everything is personal

Like looking with your eyes

And sleeping when you’re tired


It’s what is called a universal lever

A free option you can call in

Soon as you find the strength to do yourself the favour

Moving On

When the broken glass of life

Scrapes dead weight from parts of you

You still treasure, gathering the slivers

Is a short path to hypersensitivity 

As opposed to applauding the poetry

Of how long you’ve had your head down

Letting the unfairness nestle

Into the corners of your smile

And bloom into the tender sweetness of a heart

Whose open arms proved insufficient 

The music in your hips newly sprung by bae’s absence

Her face in every woman’s face regardless of age

Stop trying to stop seeing her everywhere

Stop beating yourself up for finding yourself asking

What do you mean what do I mean by love?

Years into thinking the answer was set in stone

Just steep in it and get familiar with how you are 

Too much food to finish for basically everyone

Until someone comes along happy to wrap you up

And save you for delectable exploratory unravelling

Which, for the record, is the opposite of cutting back

To compromise on the tenant between your eyes

—Liked what you read? Grab a book.

10K-Foot View

As I trace a finger down my warped pages

And my schedule’s specks of glass hidden on the tile

Not bothering looks less like tidiness

And more like deferred contentment 

Gotta do it like it’s meant to happen

Watch for feeling good just past ill will

Or persistence, once it gets going

And starts to make things seem smaller

And more manageable than being a brick wall

As a self-preservation tactic 

Blocking all exits and entrances 

With generic Powerpoint as-you-can-see

Sometimes commitment is afraid of getting back 

On its laissez faire bs 

What if it works out? the operative question

To see as I dream

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