Drums In The Fog
Am I forgetful?
No. Because there’s nothing.
Nothing that’s worth forgetting.
The only proof I left my bed
Is the coffee stain on my t-shirt
And I’m not ready,
And everyone will know,
And things will only get worse,
And there is no way to get out.
I can’t seem to ever get it right.
To the bone.
And even worse
Sometimes to my soul.
The fog returns again,
And muffles the sound of drums.
I watch the wall lighten. New day.
Blank stare instead of racing heartbeat.
Which one’s worse?
Each is too much;
Together is worse.
Feeling nothing, then all.
Scrambling my exhausted brain.
Just get up and do the next thing.
Breathe in and out, brush my teeth and hair
A few nice words
Reaching through the fog.
Gossamer strand; lifeline.
Even though he can’t relate
He wants me to know someone cares.
One among those who gave up on me.
I can’t forget
Just how much it means.
A note, a call, or text.
Just when I’m disappearing
He tells me he can still see me.
I call another who is fading.
I see beyond me.
My fingers typing hope
To another trapped in fog.
Who hears drums closing the distance
Who needs to know I think she matters.