Crossroads

Life is not like the weather

Weather which changes with time

Life only changes with 

decisions

and 

choices

Stacked on each other

Building

         Your 

              Path

To the next set of 

decisions

and

choices

"crossroads" are what they call them

Moments they say appear in the mist

But it is not misty

If you know how to keep the lights on

You know it's coming

If you have a map

You

walk

straight

into 

them

And pause.

What is holding you back?

This spot seems good enough for you

The choice is too difficult for you

There is so much to do here for you

Your limbs too weak too tired too

unmotivated to move for you

All avenues make sense

None of the avenues make sense

Why try? Why not?

You have other reasons.

Your walk stops.

You're standing.

Not moving.

Barely standing.

You should sit.

Maybe lie down.

The weight of this is weighing you down

Deeper

Deeper

Deeper

In the ground

Did you choose? Did you not? Does it matter now?

You reminisce on the walk to this

crossroad.

You remember the trees.

When did you stop seeing them?

My Sister's Tomb

My sister- a ghost
Not dead, but surely not alive
Nothing

Except

stacks
of
white
bones

Poking, Prodding, Painful

I searched:
Wrists, arms, the curve of her neck
My eyes found:
Negative              space

Where is her body?

This moment- this question: a loaded gun
One wrong move
A shot in my foot
A bullet to her head
No wonder neither of us are a full person

yet

The others are already ready
Dressed in black
Ready for the funeral
For the ghost to lack

But where do we mourn what's missing?

In me
My mind, my soul
Her corpse's tomb

Desperate to preserve
Straining to protect
The dirt, the world pressing upon us

But what else could I do?
All living things need a body

Obligation shoveled dirt in our grave
Choking me- unable to reach her
Unwanted, early, forced
Our purgatory- our temporary death

Then comes the day she regains her form.
Poking, Prodding, Painful the process
As she is torn
Between comfort and reality
Between lies and truth

Restarting a heart hurts I tell you
A thunderous shock
forcing an

unwilling
pulse
to
scream

forcing
blood
to churn

Breath
to come in
and out

Dante guides her
Out
Out
Out

My work is done, but the office I cannot leave
The impression in the satin- an outline
I fear

The tomb my prison
The tomb that must heal