Hard Time

You know it’s been difficult.  I don’t need to remind you when you already feel the pulse of the beast that ails us.  Hear the unmentionables of the many voices that seem to spew out of his mouth to poison our ears.  Oh God, why is that voice in my own ears?  See the shadow lurking around the corner taking the breath from our lungs one molecule at a time.  Running away swiftly from his sighs when it’s dark.  I wake up blind in the middle of the night thinking about these times.

Cry out for help but not one person hears.  People witness the crimes but turn around as if I were a ghost.  As if we were all ghosts.  I want to scream, “Can’t you see us?  Do you see this?”

But I yell only at clouds – vapor that takes my consonants and vowels and swirls them around till they grow into an angry twister that finds its way back to me.  It always finds its way back to me.  To rip me into shreds, fill my heart with dread, and slam my head to the floor whispering, “Are you ready for more?”

I don’t know how much more I can take, when at any given moment, while sitting at the kitchen table, my eyeballs explode with sadness.  The drooping orchid that has not yet bloomed reminds me of this.  Our crumbling house reminds me of this.  The blue hue and scars on my arms reminds me of this.  Being stuck is this.  What life is this.

I don’t know how much more you can take, when at the same table, during a different meal; I watch your tired eyes swell up with tears so large I’d need a bucket to collect them all.  And my heart silently breaks watching each one fall.