I’m sorry
it would seem
you intruded
in this moment where
my feelings of safety
have been
ruptured.
I have been told,
“You are the eldest
daughter, despite
your birth order.”
I’m sorry
it would seem
you caught me
at capacity.
I’ve been
holding a network
together
for too long,
and I’d like
to stop.
I notice sometimes,
those one or two line
doses
feel like icy cool
glittering jewels
on top of scorching skin.
I want them
to rest
on my clavicle
until the urge
to rip them off
is too tempting.
I’m sorry
it seems
you arrived,
just as I was
deciding
to change.
I’d like to neutralize
the workload
of my thoughts.
(Daily Writing 108)
Thoughts?