A new restaurant opens
Nearby and we decide
To give it a try.
Things don’t go as planned,
We likely won’t return.
On the drive home we
Discuss it animatedly.
Do this,
Do that,
It has to be done
This way,
That way,
The way I say,
How it’s always been
Or has randomly developed
Through years of people
Scrambling to hang on to
Power and prestige
At the expense of
Everything else,
Rules smothering
Passion, creativity, life.
No thank you.
He explodes at the
Thought that someone
Else is getting something
For nothing; after all,
He’s worked for everything
He owns and has never received
Any assistance from anyone,
Except for his father, mother,
Uncle, friends, old classmates,
The system that keeps his
People in power, the
Infrastructure that helps
Him make money, the programs
He’s accessed when he’s
Needed help, the court system
That tilts in his favor, but
None of that matters, because
He’s somehow different.
I used to let everyone
Else’s voice supersede mine,
Lent more credence to
What they said than
Anything I might have
Been thinking, and it
Paid off in an overwhelming
Windfall of misery and
Inauthenticity, having left
The real me languishing by
The wayside while I plodded
Ahead wearing someone else’s
Persona and venturing further
Away from the real me,
An indistinct whisper in
A cacophonous gale,
Alone and unindividuated.
Startled out of
A blissful slumber
By the sound of
Insecurity
Roaring by in a cloud of
Acrid smoke,
Whooping and hollering
About some shallow thing
That only matters to
Someone who has no sense of
What it means
To heal.
As he sits alone at
The kitchen table,
In the middle of the night,
Under the unsettling glare
Of a single light bulb,
He wonders when he might
Get some sleep,
Whether the voices will
Ever quiet down enough
To let him rest.
Somewhere deep inside
He knows the answer but
It is hidden in a choking
Bramble of avoidance.
I look at the words
But they don’t elicit any
Kind of memory,
As if it all had
Never happened.
She keeps wishing
For a different result
Although history
Tells her that
Nothing will change,
Everything will remain
Exactly as it is now.
How to restructure the past?
She wonders,
An impossibility
She has not yet
Given up on.
How sad
To use one’s gifts
Expressly to hurt others
Instead of trying to
Build them up,
Encourage,
Love.
