There is a heaviness in my shoulders
when I pull into the complex,
a seeking sense I can’t seem to shake.
I park but don’t move;
There must be something inside a note
or lyric
that has some answer,
but it falls short,
just like every night that preceded this one.
I turn off the ignition to hear a silence
that screams too loudly.
I journey to the door,
and the passing of my feet across the threshold
is my emotional “off” switch.

For now
it is out of my hands.