make eye contact,
I know something’s
wrong.
I know it
in my bones,
like I know
when infection
is creeping inside
waiting for the moment
to strike.
Maybe something I’ve done
has caught up with me,
or an old primal fear
found its way back to her door
like a bad habit,
like an IOU owed
to an impatient loan shark.
There’s no way
to escape
her indictment,
as the shame
and guilt
sear me.
My guilt
and my shame
have been in here forever
and they’ve have no expiration,
so I don’t even try
to sweep them
from my pantry.
But now, she’s not talking
so I’m left in the dark
just guessing
the reason
(if a reason even exists)
why she’s not making
eye contact,
and why it
worries me so.
Oh, does THIS ever speak to me:
ReplyDelete"an old primal fear
found its way back to her door
like a bad habit"
So, so true. Past lives creep in. Chances are very good it's not you.
isn't it a conundrum? look too much and you're staring. don't look enough and you're inattentive. ~
ReplyDeleteMosk, it's me at Difficult Degrees, I am blogging incognito because my family is starting to read my shit lol
ReplyDeleteLove this stanza:
ReplyDelete"Maybe something I’ve done
has caught up with me,
or an old primal fear
found its way back to her door
like a bad habit,
like an IOU owed
to an impatient loan shark."