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Pinball Machine Between My Ears

I sit down to type

My 75 pound pitbull


Immediately plops his head down onto my lap

Pinning my right arm down

Stuck between his giant head

And my right hip

He’s so sweet

I dont want to move him

I am just barely able to continue typing

Its early in the morning

And I’m sipping on my coffee

It’s a cold and grey day

The first day of november

I had stayed in bed longer than I needed to


I was grateful

Truly grateful

That I could spend an extra hour in the warmth of my bed

With my dog


With my favorite poet

Not having to rush to work

Doing exactly what I wanted

For a few hours

It was pure.

I wanted more than anything

To have the freedom to do whatever I wanted

Whenever I wanted.


My shitty writing wasn’t going to pay my bills

I wasn’t a professional fighter yet

I was fading

Stuck in limbo

Working an unfulfilling job

Just to get by

Hoping one day I’d get my shot

One day I would breakthrough

In some sort of way

And be better


And maybe

I’ll have someone to share those moments with

Maybe not though


In this moment

I had the chance to write

To fight

If only I wasn’t scared

Scared to take a chance

Things will never change if I don’t

I know this

I try to overcome them

The fears

They are an illusion

Created by us

Our minds

That pinball machine between our ears

Telling me I am not good enough

Telling me to stay comfortable

I try to hit the ball back

And work

Work harder

The only confidence I have

I have because of the work

My work

My art

My self expression

Thats the only way I can hit the ball back

One step at a time

One punch at a time

One word at a time

And I keep the pinball from falling perfectly between my two ears

So I keep trying

even if my arm is numb from Stanley

I really should just move him.

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