grief
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I wish I never let goUnder the flicker of fluorescentsHalf-drunk coffee, stillborn dreams tucked into my desktop blotter On another deskBright ink-filled journalsCircular stories traipse into the etherJust out of reach Always a hands breadth awayOr a lifetime behindWhat would I beIf I never let go
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The car door slams. A headache sizzles at my temples. One hand drums angrily on the steering wheels. One child is whining while the other’s long thin legs pound the passenger seat’s back. I’m forgetting something, something important. Loading the trunk I unpack my brain. Traveling with children is like decamping a circus, I think
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This is my handDeep in my pocketOver my heartCovering my eyes, oh God Covering my eyesLaying in bedNever wanting to get up againHere is my hand Another morningWeighs on my chest pressingOver my heartTake this hand Pinned to the sadnessDeep inThe pocket ripped patched tornBleeding precious need To reach out to rise
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Heavy unbearably heavy Weighing down your limbs Pressing down your lids Laying across your chest When you know you must to get up and do all the things that need to be done Light incredibly light Light as a sun faded photograph Light enough to slip into a pocket and be carried everywhere Light as
circular staircase 