Some days are an ambush.
I might have suspected from the overnight phone demise
- a night in which I'd chosen poorly, reading to the wee, small hours.
And Awoke to the sound of crashing plans, cluttered moments, and pillows on the floor.
Demons peeked out and creeped out of closed closet doors, dim corners.
The so-many, too-many, way-too-early voices slammed in
all clamor and yammer.
This didn't go the way I hoped; that didn't work out like I planned.
Worry clawed, gnawed and shredded the edges;
All wrapped up in the crap-trappings of this world:
unpaid, needing repair, temporary, ugly
I wonder why I bother
Why I care
Why I listen
Why it matters
Why am I responsible?
These tripping expectations that lay strewn across the floor
hard lego-edges gouging deep.
I must be careful
Or I will wound myself on my own sharp edges.