motives & thoughts

for 14 year old shakira 

I am tired 

Intrinsic motivation intrinsically making me believe

That passion is not late nights in bed writing until my hands hurt

The sensation of pen to paper doesn’t feel like oceans or the sand 

But sandpaper rubbing up against dry land 

I’m in a deserted area and my well has run dry 

I’m not full 

Of ideas like I use to be 

And I have extrinsically motivated myself to 

Death

Rest in peace to the girl that wrote poems because it was therapeutic 

Rest in peace to the girl whose flow was like spitting bars and rhythmic 

Going back to the days where Rhymezone was her best friend 

Looking up words that end with -end 

She spent

Days and nights in her journal before Monday afternoon visitations ever existed 

Rest in peace to the girl who always stayed consistent 

Rest in peace to the girl who didn’t know about competitions 

Didn’t know about boxing herself into uncomfortable positions 

Because points were never her mission 

Rest in peace to the girl who was always about her Father’s business 

I am tired 

And I feel like giving up

because everything I loved to do 

Has turned into everything I loathe and hate 

Metaphors and imagery 

Performances and delivery 

Changing my piece 

So I can get some peace at night 

Fight or flight 

Into another world where I can try all of this again 

Where comparison is a sin 

Baptize me in a pool of hope 

So I can be reborn and believe in myself one more time

Instead of telling every opportunity 

“Oh, yeah! That’s fine!”

But my motives and thoughts never seem to align 

Rest thine weary eyes 

Rest