surely you must know
how tight my patience has been
strung? yet still you pull
It has only taken me 50 years or so, but I think I might finally be on the verge of arriving at a conclusion.
Perhaps you haven’t put enough effort into understanding how angry I am, and how angry I am at you, and why I am so angry.
I cannot begin to tell you how difficult this is for me. How hard it is and how hard it has been for this entire wretched, aching time. I am not sleeping. I am awash with loss. This loss and a thousand losses, each a reminder of all of the others. People I’ve lost, homes and families and all manner of precious memories. I am bobbing about, disregarded in the face of this tidal swell of anguish, and there is no land in sight.
It's a moment of light, a pause in dilute
suspended
warmth, within this captive
ravening
gloom.
It's a glimpse of tendril, a flush of slight
fragile
movement, within this encircling
rictus of
decay.
It's the merest of nothings, a hint of unfolding
frozen
breath, within this calcified
ruinous
hole.