I saw the familiar
rose-flush dust
shoot from my
fingertips,

the day
I finally
decided
to snap out of it.

I had forgotten what lived inside me.

I snapped again
at the
worrywart hut
I'd created
for myself
to live in.

And again, once more
for all time
gone
to my mind's

incessant banter
and going-on's
with
the
flirty,
too flirty,
doubting Adonnis.

The fog was heavy,

in its resilience against my
needs
to get it right,

overtaking me in confusion,
making me forget

the reality
that lay beyond it.

Its grip was choking,

sending me reeling
through a
soul-tainting realm

I hated
I knew so well,

grasping

for anything
to hold on to,

anything that
looked
like

Life.

So,

with the moon
tonight,
I weep

for the many suns
sacrificed
to
Unbelief

and
the parts of me
permitted to be
plagued
by

poison
and
malpurpose.

Though,
with the same tears,
I will thank my God
that I can at least
see
what lies
within me

and again, once more
while the moon is still bright

for the gift to feel
remorse.

Sometimes I worry that
the only job my dad
will ever be able to
get is a buggy pusher
at Kroger.
I'm afraid he'll sit in
a recliner for a week
before anyone notices.
I know that's what
happens when people's
hearts are too full or empty
to stay in that recliner, though.
I can't be mad because
one day we'll all just
be sitting in our recliners
and then go.
I just hope I have someone
who looks for me
before I get juicy.

The last words you said
Still ring in my head:
Protect me? What could you have done?

And it's sad.
Because it's true.

I wouldn't have known
What to do.

These spins
Orbitals quantum mechanics
(Giveupgiveupgiveup)
80 my magic number
Average, all average? Once feared now
Desired wanted
CalculusEnglishBiologyChemistryCalculusEnglishBiologyChemi­stry
I am stretched so thin
But at the same time I dart what could make me succeed
I am not the studywart
But I am still the worrywart
Drown me in electron clouds
Make my noose out of orbitals
My spine will be a neat smooth l, angular momentum number
Spin me until I disintegrate
Until I am indivisible, Democritus, please
Give me an 80 and let me be let me go to Ottawa
Or let me fail gracefully
Disappear
All I ask.



My counselor says black and white thinking
Black and white I don't show up soon a
Letter,
I smell her office on the pages

Lauren, you have not shown up
I am unable to provide you metal health services respond by
April 10th if not we will close your file

It is April 8th and me,

Orbitals will drown me

I'm feeling lucky.

Just thinking...    

  Getting Your Affairs In Order

I’m getting my affairs in order.
By affairs I don’t mean love affairs -
They got ‘ordered’ long ago.
You reach an age where you no longer
Think yourself un-deadly;
Getting one’s affairs in order is a ‘getting ready’ -
You who having left your prime,
Traveling through time not only limited to astronauts.
Life support that may have passed,
‘Affairs in order’ is the comfort of a passport,
No more a worrywart divisive,
Indecisive about treasure gathered over years,
Tied and bound by tears nostalgic;
Wondering who’ll want this, where shall this land?
Pondering over hindering or squandering.
You want those apples of your eye,
Your prides and joys,
To go someplace where they’ll be loved;
Want to leave the place you lived
Not just an empty space but gift received.
We weave a life we’d wish to leave,
Woven for those far or near, bereaved or dear,
And that means putting your affairs in order
From consideration of a future -
Not of yours but of the other.

Getting Your Affairs In Order 3.22.2021 Birth, Death& In Between III; Arlene Nover Corwin