Poetry

Reasons that make it possible.

Feelings behind the reasons.

Truths that haunt the feelings.

Circumstances that cloud the truths.

Time runs away with circumstantial evidence.

Proud of writing once a day.

Now, I do it occasionally.

All because of where the computer is located.

Forcing myself to do what once came naturally

takes more effort than I can afford most days.

You dread making them.

Startled when they ring.

Procrastination leads down a slippery hill.

Moments of discomfort.

Getting them done can be so hard to do some days.

I did not let the depression win.

I did my errand.

It was important.

At least to me.

Tomorrow brings another bout to fight.

Once as a child

Chasing my older brother

In what I thought was a game

He caught his thumb in the door as I closed it.

I did not realize he was screaming to open the door.

I thought we were still playing.

As a result,

He lost his thumb nail

And it took months for it to grow back.

Now whenever I look at my partially torn thumb nail

I can see his face through the door window.

Covering up.

No blemishes to see.

Everything must be perfect.

To see beneath is a sin.

So colour upon colour.

Layer upon layer.

Soon I will be unrecognizable.

Eyelids want to close.

Heavy is how they feel.

Sleep is calling.

Fight against it

Or let it win?

Sometimes neither choice is a good one.

It is a memory game.

You forget if you don’t use it.

Sometimes it becomes a habit.

Then all it takes is one day where thinking is required

And the password is gone.

Hide your book with them in it.

Just try to remember where you left that.

Stuffed and sitting

Politely looking

Waiting for your forever home.

I hope the little ones treat you well.

Promises broken

mean

they won’t believe you

the next time.

Consequences follow the actions.