"Ode To Being Almost—" by Raquel Luciano
Sometimes you pour yourself water and it evaporates
before you remember to drink it. Let it go where lost
socks go. Your laundry sits in the basket for so long
it wrinkles and starts calling you grandkid. You tell people
it only takes thirty days to form a habit because you heard
a guy talk about how he tried something different
every month to see if he could. You talk a lot. You talk
about movies you want to watch and visiting Greece,
but you let drafts of poems turn into paper airplanes
with no distance. You listened to a TED talk about how
procrastinators have a monkey living in their heads
that only cares about easy and fun. You run out of bananas
so you start letting him feed on what is left of the gray
matter. There are things you have done that are worse
than this. There are things you are that are better than this.
Astrologists say that Geminis go crazy if they are doing less
than fourteen tasks at one time. They say you dream
in Ferris wheels. You save the stew recipes, but forget
about the potatoes until they start to sprout.
Give yourself permission to embrace
your in-between. Give yourself credit for making it
to fifteen days or two days into good habits. Forgive yourself
for all the ways you are not bad nor good.
Stitch up these broken promises
with a thread tied to the softest needle.
Raquel Luciano is a future educator and a student at the University of Central Florida. She lives in Orlando with her girlfriend and their five crazy cats. She loves singing bad karaoke. Find her on Instagram @raq.poet.