Tell me about despair,
yours, and
I will tell you
mine
Meanwhile, we will
laugh and cry and scream
and threaten to
run away from home
and lose ourselves in
games and stories
and less wholesome vices
and make ourselves get out of bed
again
every morning
though sometimes
we will wear pajamas
all day
Meanwhile, we will
check on each other
more than usual
because we know
what it feels like
to be teetering
on the edge of sanity
(and to fall
over the precipice,
sometimes)
Does this get any easier?
I don’t believe so
Only more familiar
Meanwhile, we offer
absolution to
ourselves
as often as possible
because we tend to forget things
(and people,
sometimes)
because our brains
and our hearts
are overfull
and our bodies
are exhausted
We are making
more messes
and letting them linger
but we are
doing the best
we can
even when it’s not
enough
We are sitting with
our feelings
or under our feelings
(when they become oppressive and heavy)
or eating
our feelings
or telling those damn feelings to
get the hell our of our house
when we have had
ENOUGH
We are listening
to each other
that’s got to be
enough
© Betsy Rosenblatt Rosso (with gratitude to Mary Oliver)
October, 2020
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