I haven’t poured anything out in a while. I kept telling myself it was because I was so busy.
I don’t think that’s true anymore.
I think it’s because I am afraid of this hurricane wave of life that I know is coming.
I’m not sure if my levies will keep me from being flooded.
Questions on the state of the future are leaking through the cracks.
How do I patch them up?
With the truth?
Come on, let’s be serious.
That just makes the cracks even wider; exposing me to things I’m not braced for.
Time is not a material that I can use.
Neither is silence.
That’s almost funnier than telling the truth.
My face rebels every time I do it.
I thought by the end of this poem I would have come up with something that could shield me.
I’m realizing at this very moment that I’m not supposed to be hiding from the overwhelming water.
I’m supposed to ride it out.