Shoreless

I attempt to predict
but the future is blank

Snapshots only portray
the past, fragmented

Sunsets might suggest,
birds leak probabilities

But I want to peek
behind the final curtain

Cut through the noise
of popular currents

Life is two-faced
deception paired

And row as I might
fighting the flow

Manna follows its own rhythm
nips at my fears, like a tail wind

Nothing in it but to breathe
Lighten this intense need to know

(Image my own)

The Opposite of Confrontation

Withdrawal does not negate
the duplicity of the situation
I am at once compliant
and unruly – conflicted

I do what I can to hush
the rule-breaker, amuse
her with trivial activities
but she is vociferous

Disapproval justify’s itself
with personal anecdotes,
as if judgement is queen
only fuelling righteous rage

I attempt to retreat further
but the beastly turmoil
has grown wings –
consequences knocking

Try as I might to swat it away
my excuses are flimsy,
I am without substantial argument –
best to open the door and let it out.

(Image my own)

Some Days

Why am I courting judgment
like an old friend,
popping in unexpectedly?

She overlooks my needs,
barges in reeking
of stale perfume, and
energy-sucking shoulds

I crave the subtle tones of compassion –
quiet whispers over tea –
a gentle pat, words of encouragement

But, truth be told,
I squirm at even this –
hate vulnerability,
hate this weakness on display,
this chronic, fucking disability

Seems I have dressed myself
in judgment’s cloaks,
walk in the pinched shoes
of expectations too tight

No wonder I’m exhausted,
am dying…numbed
to my own drama.

(Image my own)