4/19/91
Take five minutes
To purge the bad taste that makes my stomach turn
And threatens to make me cry.
And I seldom do that.
Perhaps it would be easier if I were a frequent crier,
But I’m not.
A pain I can’t expel by unloading on my friends,
Not even my letter friends,
For to print it is to acknowledge it, and I keep wanting it to go away.
I’m blowing it out of proportion…
It isn’t really true…
It hasn’t been sealed…
So I can ignore it, and perhaps
It will vanish.
But it gnaws at the back of my mind
And I keep seeking it out,
Looking for clues to confirm or deny –
Wanting to confront and address it,
Yet afraid if I do that will make it real.
So far it still lingers in the hazy world of the bad dream,
Not yet a nightmare, but close.
So I tuck it away again, and plunge in to activity
To think of other things,
And wonder – and wonder…
And push back the smothering images,
And the tears come, and my throat grows tight,
And the silent choking muffled sobs seize me for a moment only.
Enough. My five minutes are expired,
Enough time to expel a little of the poison
That clouds my vision, and renders me useless.
Think instead of Heidi, and Jeff, and Billy,
And wallow in self-pity no longer.
Life continues, in all its varied patterns –
Only time will reveal the truth I seek to uncover,
A truth that perhaps isn’t even yet fully formed.
Let time continue and use well these moments here and now –
They won’t linger and wait for me.