“Help!”
A memory I’d pay to live without
The path down a lane I wish I’d reroute
My thoughts fall like dominos down the stair
The last bone falls, which leaves me feeling bare
Loneliness silently embarrasses
A masochist would be okay with this
But I still don’t show when you offer help
Only one thing hurts more, that’s sharing hell
The TV’s still on in the afternoon
Boss left nine messages, text, “See you soon.”
I wash couch creases from my ragged face
Light refracts, razor thrums, welcome headcase
Phone rings after who knows how long it’s been
“You’re fired! Don’t bother coming back again!”
I don’t. With the stress of work gone, I breathe
Then responsibility knocks, “You miss me?”
A memory I’d pay to live without
Stacks atop another and fills me with doubt
If life’s mental burdens keep compounding
No wonder so many people are shouting
“Lord Jesus, help!”
Copyright © 2021 by Matt Antis. Originally published in Poet’s Guild’s Poem-A-Week on June 12th, 2021, by Ink Jot Kingdom.
