escape from the crossroads

I turn around,
and its within a matter of seconds
they suddenly expect to look at me
and see something different.
But responsibility is not found in the garden
nor can I cultivate it in my room, under the bed.
In fact, I’m not entirely sure where I can find it –
all I know is, they are in a harsh demand
and I’ve run out.
Can’t you see me struggling,
flailing against the tides?
Can’t you offer a handful
of compassion?
Not pity, mind,
but rather an understanding.
However, from what I can tell
they’ve forgotten.
They do not remember.
Or they were never in these shoes
to begin with.
I walk under the gloriously blue skies
or revel in the clear sweet rain,
loving, and loving, and loving
entirely far too fiercely,
but then the bell rings
and I’m taken here
where the smirk is wiped off my face
and the black beast crawls out of my closet
and devours me
time and time again.
Eyes hard, voices raised,
paperwork scattered, falling,
like pigeons in a hunter’s sights.
I’ve grown tired of praying
so I shut down completely
staring at the wall as the light washes down
before I fall into a troubled sleep.
The morning only brings more pain
but if I can just slip quietly past it,
endure it one more time,
I’ll find myself in the arms of a friend
and the fear and the hurt and the bewilderment
dissipates in my chest.

Please,
take me home with you
if only for today.