, My Girl

don't lie to me
tell me where did you sleep
last night

Sunday night stirs return, I lie for hours trying to sleep but all the quiet of a weekend sets my nerves on fire, races illicit thoughts around the edges of my mind. I jolt awake hours later, a deep dream on the tip of my tongue and I have time to think I'll want to remember this before it slips out of my conscious. Monday arrives not so much a sledgehammer as a persistent ice pick that finally ruptures the newly fitted protective gear around your heart, aren't you tired of bleeding everywhere all the time? I refresh the apartment listings, reset my ruminating pathways to run in other directions, make another cup of coffee to endure just the exhaustion of being alive, is it always like this ma?

I am all questions again, ma. I am all jumbles of unanswered despair and the downward spiral looks not so much like a threat as an invitation to rest my weary head, my traveling shoes. Summer arrives with a resigned sigh, and I am not strong enough to light it into fireworks.