Patriot

Ignorance comes from within.

I’m not a philosopher.

Nor a psychologist.

And certainly no poet.

What you do not know you do not care for.

Your knowledge is bound by your naïveté.

What do you seek in the world?

You know nothing of your real colors.

Of the ground you were born on.

Of the people who raised you.

Of the ones who struggled for you.

You do not seek comfort in your history.

Just the history of others.

Those far, far away.

But they do not care for you.

They don’t know you, foolish girl.

Meow

I don’t know how to be less.
I don’t know how to change the colors in my closet.
I don’t know how to eat grapes.
I don’t know how to take it slow.
I don’t know how to take a proper vacation.
I don’t know how to play the mandolin.
I don’t know how be with another person.
I don’t know how not to embarrass myself.
I don’t know how to like condiments.
I don’t know how to be confident.
I don’t know how to be desirable.
I don’t know how to go on a diet.
I don’t know how to step down.
I don’t know how to converse for extended periods of time.
I don’t know how to be less anxious.
I don’t know how to be my age.
I just don’t know, darn it.