Fourteen Months

“Take a break, Chris,”
she says,
“Take a breath. Lay down.”
and I slowly realize that it still
somehow
feels wrong to.


How about I feel treacherous
about how tumultuous I am?
And in only twenty nine days
I'm going back where I come from.

But these days she skips up and down.
Sometimes saying vague stuff
that pretty much sucks
when I can see through what I wish it said
to what it really does.
And she says shooting stars
are nothing but eye candy for the camera happy
and that I should just stop thinking
that what I want to be
will ever be.
Then there are those
minivans, Christmas mornings,
flower crown black & white afternoon reception
conversations
that make me tired and weary and ramble on
until the next time I think I need to give up.
All the dishes rattle in my cupboard.

But every night she skips left and right
and I continue to ride my motorcycle
in brisk defiance
of state statute and criminal law.
So, “Take a break, Chris,”
that someone else says,
“Take a breath.”
Yet I cannot.
I don't want to spend my days
unable to lay down again.
This place is spiraling out of control.

The people at work,
they ask me questions.
They ask my input.
My interpretation.
It's like they think I know what I'm doing.
That I know what I'm talking about.
All I have are words off a page
and enough free will left
to say what I think they mean.
What they don't know is
all words are meaningless.
What they don't know is
when I go home each night
I back into a corner
and pull the sheets over my head.
Every second
I crumble a bit more
and sooner rather than later
it will all come crashing down.
And every second I spend thinking
I think about how badly
I want to make it back
to that corner
where at least my back is to the wall
by but my own hand.
Good thing I know enough
to know I’m not important enough
to be the only one like this.

So she whispers in my ear,
“Take a break, Christopher.”
All I can think is how she's not
who I want to be saying this.
“Take a breath. Lay down.
Tonight, you belong to me.”

I think, “It's not you,
I hope you know.”