big stream of little tears
hands shaking off
the grieving left
but now I’m waiting
for it all to come back to me
God – please don’t let it
come back to me
let the child that I now see
i welcome a miraculous mystery
this beaten down shell of a woman
the one with the grandest dreams
grew tired of seeing her shadow at the bottom
let the violins lead her out of the water
to take a walk under the August sun
journey for days on end without sleep
burdened with thirst but not take a drink
until that duty called her back in
to cut her feet on those flawed, broken shells
back in to swim with the eels
back to the that beaten down shell of a woman
I can’t even enjoy the rain anymore.
I’m always pacing, reaching for the door.
I can’t even savor my meals anymore.
I’m always eating while standing;
hurriedly chewing and choking.
I can’t even stand my showers anymore.
That water hurts my burgundy
I can’t even stand to stand anymore.
The gorilla on my back just keeps
I can’t even love my words anymore.
They just sit here pretty like,
as a constant reminder that
I just can’t anymore.