It rises – like bile in the throat
like rage
like the heat from a long-burning fire.
i am tired, i am stretched
i am impatient.
It’s permeating my body the way it’s been filtering down through my brain-folds for months.
My neck is aching so quietly
My back twinges uncomfortably
It rises – the pain (the anxiety!)
And then it falls back down and quietly soaks me
to the bone.
i am losing my hold on me.
i need somewhere to rest –
somewhere away from the
wrestling, pushing, scratching, shoving
the winding ropes,
the single strand of hair caught in the zipper
but still attached to my skin
the car that refuses to start
the key that’s jammed in the lock
the toy stuck in the tree and teetering so suggestively
without ever falling back to earth
the restless fingers
the restless toes
the restless eyes and their sticky, slippery eyelids
the restless mind
the tired mind
the wounded mind
the quiet mind
the screaming
screaming
endlessly screaming mind
i am tired!
let me rest!
i am tired!
let me rest!
i am tired of this aggression
i am not a hard thing
i am not a hard thing!
i am the tenderly unfurling green
i am the first sighs of light rain
i am hushed footsteps
i am small
i am crushed
i am fading under the weight of this ever-so-slight expectation
the one i constantly fail to meet
the one i have no interest in meeting
i am tired
i am restless
let me rest.
how i long for gentler things.