"I Believe I'm Softening" by Peter Leight

I Believe I’m Softening

on the outside
and also inside,

as when you stick in your finger
and it goes all the way in,

I don’t mind admitting it,

honestly I’m not even sure if it’s a cost
or a benefit,
or one of those benefits that comes
at a terrible cost,

do you think it’s enough?

When I touch my forehead
it’s soft as a pillow,

as long as I’m softening
I’m not even lifting
my head or putting my head down,

as if it’s not even mental,

not afraid of being soft,

I mean there’s no point being afraid
of something
that’s already happened,

isn’t there?

It’s true, we’re often softer than we think,

when you’re a soft person
you’re not sitting around
waiting to be hard,

not even hardening
or feeling hard things,

you don’t even know if you’re
as soft as you’re going to be:

I actually think it’s a symptom of everything
I can think of,

I don’t mind admitting it,

when I’m soft I often slip
away or flow away,

sliding through pretty much everything,

as if I need to slip away,

I’m not saying it’s deserved
or would be different
if I didn’t deserve it.

Peter Leight

Peter Leight lives in Amherst, Massachusetts. He has previously published poems in Paris Review, AGNI, Antioch Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, New World, Tupelo Quarterly and other magazines.

Headshot: Margaret Bruzelius

Photo Credit: Staff