Grocery List

I have all these doubts and fears
They come out of me in great long lists
Instead of writing, "I'm afraid"
I write, "Alarm, Coffee, Pills, Breakfast"
I can't force my hand to write
Those other words, my mind to admit
That I have a chronic weakness
So instead I fill my list and day
With things to do to keep from feeling
"Clean the bathroom" instead of
"Will they see me and not my house"
"I hope he misses me as much as I miss him"
Becomes "Laundry, change sheets, trash"
If I finish the list, I didn't make it long enough
If I don't, I have more to do tomorrow
"I don't feel like I'm getting anything done"
Will always turn into three or more chores
So I can prove my worth with this list
This paper thin piece of my soul
Written in pencil, or crayon, or chalkboard

What if I let myself say what is inside me?
I feel unmotivated. I've said that.
But what I mean
When I try to work
I cannot focus.
I cannot remember what I'm doing.
I cannot see a reason why it needs doing.
And I don't see life and beauty in it now.
"Make things"

I don't know how to be still.
If I sit, my mind moves faster than my hands did.
I think.
I remember every time I mispoke.
I want to cry for every time I may have been misunderstood
I hurt for every person I may have hurt unintentionally
I grieve for those I have not lost
I fear how I will die
I plan every little thing so I don't think.
"sugar. orange juice."
Two more things for the list