It’s hard.

Not knowing what will happen.

Not remembering what did happen.

It’s hard.

This swamp water of flesh and time

we wade through.

Paper clips, candy wrappers

receipts, car fumes, hotel rooms ….

We get lost in the little things.

There is no map.

There is no mama to kiss you

goodbye.

There is no mama to return to.

There are no witnesses.

I’ve been trying to find

the door handle

to let myself out

but maybe I should be

looking for a latch.

It’s hard.

Damn impossible.

I sit in the disappointment

between what was and will

hoping that one day

I’ll know what it is all about.

I sit.

But it’s hard

not to just put a bullet

in my head

and find out NOW.