Mannheim, Germany

This quiet moment demands
That I say something even without
motivation or inspiration to remind
myself that I’m a survivor
That my efforts are true and the best
that I’m capable of today, that I would not
be here otherwise, that self – created fantasies
of a conspiracy marking me as a loser
are just in my head, that most of what ails me
lives there like some smell from the bog,
Chemical and organic and most definitely foul
As if breathing it would cause a complaint,
Trigger the worst, I don’t need any help with
that, but this day there is completion and survival;
I fit in beside the differences, a clear marble
In a bag full of amber ones, just as glassy
(and probably as transparent).