ONE

When words pile up in my mind
like cars -  
on the Friday of a three day weekend -
and began to back up and short circuit my thoughts
spoken words are hard to
speak yet ache to be written.

The thrill and warm anticipation
of blogging
is sweet
and clarifying
and words in my head become sentences
paragraphs
monologues;
concepts and ah-ha moments;
and turn into theory.

I hoard the phrases
and savor them
let them linger and soak;
saturate in thought
while waiting for the moment
when I am able to set them free
to form into a living thing of their own

When finally I sit
shiver-lishiously
at my desk and the purr of my computer begins...
...
...
I am blank and indifferent
wasted and empty
hungry
like a weary traveller -
who's driven three hours too long into what is now a wasted day
of vacation, with hours yet still to drive -
and I am spiritless and numb

I shake my head, blink my glazed over eyes
and wonder where ---
wordlessly.

TWO

I want to tell you how dissapointed I am
in you
and I wonder if somehow that you are dissapointed too

I want to tell you that you failed
and that it wasn't my job to make you succeed
and that it shouldn't matter that you didn't know how to do it
because it was, after all, the job you'd chosen.

I want to tell you that I could still forgive you
maybe
if you'd just pick up
where you'd left off...

but that would be like me
doing your job
for you
and since your job
is me
I might as well just do it myself
and save the extra steps

and that makes me mad all over again
at you

why do I have to feel bad
over feeling mad
when it was your job to be there
not mine
in the first place?

THREE

I want to call them all
and have them over
like I did before

I want to provide
like before
and find joy in provision
like before
but I don't have the energy
like before

Besides...
they only seemed to want the provision
not the provider
so it doesn't seem
as if the joy of provision
is enough
to offset the cost
of providing.

FOUR

My child died.
It was horrible, devestating,
life destroying
and you never
ever
once
acknowledged the loss.

My entire life
was taken
in the blink of an eye
and nobody
noticed
except me.

and in the silence
that followed
when everyone else
kept going on
and I dragged my broken bleeding spirit
through the dust they left behind
you looked over and smiled
like nothing
nothing
and told me how hard it was
for you to keep up
with them

and it's the saddest truth ever
that when you think you just can't hurt
any more
there is always something
that hurts you
just enough to make you see
that you can always
always
hurt more

FIVE

I'm tired now
but there is so much driving still ahead
and no rest stop along the way
forgive me
if my conversation slows
and my companionship skills
seem nil
I'm tired
but first I have to finish this journey
before I can rest