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A Note to No One In Particular
I always feel a twinge of anger,
a truck load of guilt,
and a dash of sorrow
whenever I think of her
But mostly nothing at all
My guess is all those year of
cuts to the bone
ingrown toenails
and broken bones
weren't quite
stitched up,
fixed up
and set -
right
She used to hit a racquetball
against those grungy, white walls
until she felt like she was going to puke
And then she'd do it all over again
She could hear the rebukes
of her own self loathing
in the echoes of those four
towering walls encasing her.
It would only make her hit harder
And I don't mean just the balls
Her screams were deafening
as they traveled roundtrip,
back into her pounding head -
but her words don't make a sound
Just like when she was a kid
I don't think she could tell you
how many times she's felt it,
smelt it,
delt with its silent cry
She says sometimes she feels like a cloud -
strolling along a fixed path in the sky
only the wind knows it's destined to go -
with no will of her own
No one to really care
Just like when she was a kid
I always feel a twinge of anger,
a truck load of guilt,
and a dash of sorrow
whenever I think of her
But mostly nothing at all
Probably because I care too much
Yes, I do care.
We're going to make it
She may have lost hope,
But I am determined
Copyright ©
Rebecca Kiser
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