My head is fuzzy-
I can't pull myself out from underneath
the intoxicatingly tiring weight
of my multiple comforters and blankets.
I think of the inside of a koala's ear.
How fuzzy that must be.
That is what I am, yes.
I am nonsense, innocent pink and gaping.
No complex encroaching my perception,
no predelection for the preceeding day.
No bias nor misdirection yet, i am
unwavering as a week of rain
that leaks into two;
heavy grey clouds that won't budge
for longer than a half-hour.
I am a spelling bee and the certainty
before the fall- the letters came out wrong.
I am a churning gut, egging me
towards the "right call"
with the strumming of my moral fibers
or something of that nature.
I am the creeping heat of a humid day
no present danger
just sense of exhaustion;
feeling drained.
I am the pain on the page
and the **** poor decisions
that lead to a scalding shower
trying to smoke out those spur-of-the-moment sins.
I'm alone in your parent's walk-in closet
sobbing behind your father's golf polo's
while you make desserts
for a party full of strangers.
I always hated how you tried
to impress the neighbors.
I am the next day hurt
from a wrestling match that popped up in the
back yard over some hurt feelings
and a misinterpreted meaning.
I am all you know
but won't believe in.

C.e.M. Aug.18,2015