I’m eating goldfish crackers
All the way down to the salty crumbs.
Then I eat the flakes too.
Walk in ineffectual circles,
Listen to ineffectual music.
Recite ineffectual mantras.
Because when you told everyone to leave you be,
That today was your “writing day”
Then suddenly you need people
And you can’t bring yourself to ask for help
Or speak of the hurt
Or untangle your necklaces
The only thing you can do is wallow.
Eat all the crackers,
Avoid the whiskey in the closet,
And hold tight to the main mast
Until the squall passes.
Because deep down you know – I know –
That the storm may not pass entirely,
But it will eventually mellow,
Which will give you the space you need
To breathe, to write, to speak,
And push through to to the next, new sun.