it swells
and surges
shrouding all
in sudden gloom
potent
impatient
unforgiving
unyielding
stealing the air
the breath
self-love
the truth
intractable tears
intractable fears
too sad to fight
so far from light
grabs hold
holds tight
dark days
they come
black thoughts
they go
oft powerless
to move them so
await the light
that’s sure to come
accept the murk
be present
be calm
the dark
is part
of who
I am
the me I see
ever shifting
like a Salento sky
in winter
promising
bright
fair
light
then winds shift
and blue
turns gray
thoughts turn cloudy
rain dismay
the me I feel
ever altered
falters
like an ancient olive tree
sick with disease
yet green
still growing
from gnarled base
willful
to keep living
keep creating
ignore
the ills
outwit self-hating
know that winds
will soon reveal sun
bid fair
clear the air
better days
new ways
to nurture the soul
mend the me
if just for a spell
knowing well
clouds will gather again
time unrelenting
bad stretches ahead
blow winds
blow
bring more good days
instead
enough to yield fruit
from the mind’s
new shoots
arising
from the twisted roots
I’m fine.
That’s what you want to hear.
I’m fine.
I’ll say it loud and clear.
I’m fine.
It’s easier this way.
I’m fine.
Pretending everyday.
I’m fine.
It’s normal to wake in tears.
I’m fine.
Haven’t had a break in years.
I’m fine.
Trying to find that level ground.
I’m fine.
Wondering who I hope will stick around.
I’m fine.
Cause that’s the me you want to see.
I’m fine.
But she’s the she I no longer care to be.
I’m fine.
Losing something which never was.
I’m fine.
Just keep going, cause that’s what one does.
I’m fine.
Trying each day to set things right.
I’m fine.
But waking most days too tired to fight.
I’m fine.
Wondering if death came before dawn.
I’m fine.
And if Mom is alive, how to stay kind.
I’m fine.
Cause every day it’s just the same.
I’m fine.
The same recording on endless play.
I’m fine.
While the rest of the world gets on with its day.
I’m fine.
As hair by hair, my years now show.
As lines overtake my burrowed brow.
As my strength builds, then suddenly goes.
As the walls of my home begin to close.
As each day’s remnants turns to dust.
As I do each day what I know I must.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
Dog-eared Stories by anne celano frohna 