This is My Forties

Some days he walks away And anything that felt good before Turns to shit at the door Unfairly canceled out by Something That actually means Nothing My body won't agree My body feels betrayed By his responsibility ...................................... to leave me "He has to leave" I tell it "He'll be back" "He'll be the same" She disagrees Completely In my temples and behind my eyes I feel those saline pools Gathering for an appearance "STOP" my mind scolds "Shut that damn door" My body is in disbelief She's in desperate need She feels the sting of loneliness For 38 months All at once Like Ms Oliver told us The soft animal of my body Doesn't separate causes from effects A broken bone is broken nonetheless Biology is reactive and unreasonable It's Pavlovian It's conditioned to be what it's trained to be Through experience It makes no sense She feels the same as she...

My suffering is justice Makes sense Brings balance In this place that takes heroes And leaves enemies in palaces I'm left to wonder what "hero" is If honor is real If justice is swift Or... what if We're all out of control There's nothing we can do To right or to wrong No weak No strong IS... with no value Added to one over another Can this be it? NO I'm meant to suffer There's order Decisions, control Right side, wrong side Heaven and hell There's better than There's greater than There's evil and good There's purpose to pain Gravity to gravity A good fight A moral stand I must be right But... Trista And Rock And Dan NO My suffering is justice Makes sense Brings balance In this place that takes heroes And leaves enemies in palaces