Weighted down.
I swallow rocks
to anchor this restlessness –
no exit available.
Would love to re-locate,
check self-assessment
into a sunnier place –
but the room is not ready.
I shove it back down –
am a silhouette
against stormy horizons.
My sister and I meet here,
at the edge of denial,
both seeking calmer waters –
she swims; I crave a shower
we are haunted in our sleep –
shadows clouding dreams –
projections of mermaid possibilities
and electric blue skies, dimmed
I gain ground, sifting
through basements, tossing
old ideals, reminiscing cynic;
she breaststrokes through debris
of family storms, ignoring the rubbish-
polluted pool, maintains motion
I am submerged, trying to work out
a relationship with father –
long since deceased, still present
have opened the contents
of our stored horror – no choice
but to carry on…
we are bit players in a staged drama –
no fame to add acclaim – just misguided
endings, fragile audiences, and
a sisters following
a different light
weighted down.
(Weighted Down first appeared here in September of 2016, and has stayed with me, begging to be revised. Today, as I was playing around with images, I created this one (featured) and felt that it depicted the essence of the poem. It was time. I am also submitting this for V.J.’s weekly challenge: shadows.)
One Woman's Quest 