That Tired Spot

A tiny spot

Unseen by most,

Can't wash, don't fade, won't be cast out.

An itch

Unscratched,

Beyond reach of tired hands

From sore hearts that worry, exhausted by feeling.

A tiny spot willed away

In spite, despite, a never ending pain.

Too long every day continuing the fight

In vain. In hope for relief to surely come.

A tiny spot

That grows in the night

In crowds of empty thoughts, moments ticking by.

It’s shadow firmly cast on tomorrow’s every promise

As tomorrow’s shadow creeps firmly across the floor.

A tiny spot

Distracted by ambition,

Poked by desire; sunshine and a smile.

Smoothed by beauty, with light and love,

Muffled in friendship: understanding and true.

Calmed by fire, in peace, in rage; suffocated with hatred

And emptiness and wine. And envy and failure and longing and rain and sorrow and blood

And tears that tear at the fabric of everything there 

                                                                                -   but still. Nothing, will ever touch 

                                                                                                           The tired spot.

  

That Day

That Day

This is the day, the day it comes:
The day that second, that brings these tears
Writes these words, takes all my strength
Repeats in this world.

This is the day I see your face,
Empty, unmoving – your face but not you.
It’s the day I let real in my heart
A burden too great, a thought too hard,
Until it comes with pained reverence
- That second


I remember the moment - it killed me too.
Took from me what I’d never know
Stole memories old and new. 
Removed my life to a place we never shared
But nothing waited, nothing cared.

The water boiled and the sun went down.
Flowers grew, watered with tears
- An incessant rain that taps on my heart
Like the sound of a clock that never stopped...
Not even for a second. That second,
This one.
Today.

Mother's Commute

Mother’s Commute

Look at me Mama!

- I’m looking at my phone

But I want you to look at me

- Stop distracting me please

Can I see? Whatcha doing?

- I said, don’t touch.

Look at me Mama!

- I just got a message

Who is it? For me?

- It’s private, don’t do that.

Can I tell you something Mama?

- I’m busy, don’t speak

Look at me Mama!

- I’m talking to someone

Can you talk to me now?

- Only when I’m done

School was fun today

- Good, now don’t move.

Do you love me Mama?

- Of course I do.

Will you look at me now?

- I see you child, but I’m busy

Ok Mama but…

- But what I’m –

I’m all grown up now.

But Today...

 

But today…

I knew pain, I’d lost, I’d wept

I knew helplessness and hopes abandon; but today…

 

I knew wringing my hands, my heart of tears

Tearing down my life, clouding every breath

Each long inhale taking the misery deeper in my being

A figure stood alone; but today… I cannot breathe.

 

I’d picked myself up, worked hard for every smile

Kept warm on only memory, the remembrance of joy

I carried on, pushed forward against the world

With all my self, my will; but today… I’m strong no more.

 

I knew of unfair hands, pure hearts unravelling without cause

Too soon: taken too far, too cruelly from them they love

I thought I was safe, my scars, they were healing…

And then today…Today, again…