Unbirthed Failure

In 2016, I agreed to participate
in a durational performance art piece
created by an artist that I peripherally knew

I can't remember what it was about
or what it was supposed to mean
but I can remember 
flowers
white jumpsuits
bare feet
standing in front of a wall
and staring at it, durationally, 
before climbing ladders
to pour a dozen bottles of red wine
on the head of the artist

And I remember that
someone I didn't feel safe around
was involved in the project
and when I mentioned this to the artist
they felt that they were in a bind

So I stared at a wall
for six hours
while someone I didn't feel safe around
socialized with many people that I loved and admired
and I listened to the lilt of their voice
and their social laugh
and I marked the time with every bottle of wine
that I emptied from the top of the ladder

Telling myself that everything comes to an end
time passes one way or another
minute by minute 
even six hours in hell

I think about this often
when I want something to be over with
but I find myself thinking about it right now
in this new year, too
when I want to be all in on clean slates
and instilling good habits

This year I feel unprepared
overwhelmed already
wondering about unbirthed failures
that await me in three days
or ten days
or five weeks

I remind myself that time is passing
one way or another
minute by minute, hour by hour
shouldn't I be sending emails
or promoting
or writing poems
or kissing my lover

Everything will come to an end
This year I feel unprepared