Poem: Untitled

I couldn’t save you yesterday.
I could not fix your wounded soul.
I was not your willing savior,
Or the answer to your prayers.

My to-do list is daunting
And the laundry’s piled up.
I have a quiz on Tuesday for a class I
haven’t managed to attend.
My cello’s corroding in the corner
And the fridge is getting low.
My painting’s gone unfinished and
And still, the dishes soak.

But “yes” spews from my mouth
Because I want to do it all.

But no amount of yoga can prepare me
To be shot out your cannonball.

Today, I cannot save you.
I cannot make you better.
I won’t add your secrets to the
Weight upon my back.

You cry in your fragility
But forget I have my own.

In your anger, you explode
And assume “im sorry”s make us whole.

Like your broken heart gives you permission
To break apart my own.

My head is reeling
from this year I didn’t plan for.
And my energy’s run thin.

My list of miracles is empty,
And my magic obsolete.

So I cannot save you today,
But perhaps try me next week.

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