I haven’t written
In like…
That long.


You know how long.
Since then.
Before.


But i might


This dam of words
seeping
With the harbinger
of its destruction.


The drip and drip,
easily confused with a trickle of runoff


But not.


No words can express this time.
This year.
This,
all of this.


So i haven’t.


Couldn’t.


Not after that, and that, and … that.


I’m too tired, to do this.
This work.
On top of all the rest.


But i can’t not.
Not forever
not not.


Too much trouble
tied in twine
and too much time


But i have to.
I must.
I can’t… not


The stress is like a rubber kickball
carried under my shirt
like a fake pregnancy
At recess.


But it’s hard to put down.


It feels shameful to put it down
To disrespect its gravity
Grave-ity


To pretend that anything is okay
To do anything else but try to stop this
To heal
And to mourn


But we have to
I have to.