I find myself gripping
my green pen which
pains me to use.
It hurts to write,
to hold the pen
in contemplation,
as I always have.
I find myself gripping
the steering wheel as I drive,
holding on for dear life.
The doctor said that maybe
I needed to lighten up,
shaking out the hand he had
just told me to grip
as tightly as I could.
I didn’t want to fail the test,
That’s the problem, I never do.