To Worry:

in the midst of the storm.
Time apart.
to avoid the hurt, fear, silence.
Electronic exchanges about wishes, dreams, escapes from the mess.
“Don’t you want to…”
Can I please?
Just let me go.
I don’t want to worry about this now.
Just let me be selfish and go do my own thing.
And while you are at it, don’t let me be lonely.
Too much of this web is part of me.
Cut a strand and the whole thing falls to pieces.
Broken, disheveled, shattered,
Dust and oblivion.
On the edge, look over and wonder about the fall.
On the brim, letting the waters bulge at the lip and cascade down.
Breaking the tension and drenching everything beneath.
How long?
Eternity of waiting.
Minutes stretching into hours.
Hours into days.
Days into years.
Each moment taking too, too long.
But in this moment, is peace.
Can the peace stay, and the worry be postponed?
What can I say?
Worry, you have no place here.
There is no space for you.
You will not be allowed to stay any longer.
We do not serve your kind.
We do not serve you.
We will not, we refuse to be your servant.
We see what you truly are, eating away at our insides, and we send you OUT!
Will it make a difference?
Will worry listen to me?
Will I ever receive my comfort?
Will true peace ever return?
I would do so many things to have my peace.
But nothing I do can bring back the elusive part that I so deeply long for.
Through me it will not happen.
I cannot do anything.
Anything at all.
But wait.


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