Photo by Lillian Aff / North by Northwestern

    I click along like a broken bike

    with the chain misaligned

    I work like a computer

    overheating from the stress

    I’m not sure why I’m trying so hard

    or why I feel no progress

    I’m pretty sure it’s pointless,

    like my mom planting tomatoes right before a storm

    but I was raised by her, and

    “anything worth doing is worth overdoing”

    even if I’m agitated, like a blender

    on high when she used to make me smoothies

    even if I live sleepless

    like she does on summer nights when I don’t come home

    even if I cry, like I can never

    remember her doing when I was a kid

    it’s for my own good


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