stress

Release

/ lovizmytrio / 1 Comment

a pile of bricks behind my back
held with twine that tears into my palms
(blood spilling as it rips the skin,
blood pouring onto them)

i can’t release it

every now and then a brick
will fall from the pile,
forcing me to stop my forward motion,
bend over, bring it back

i can’t release it

a pile of bricks behind my back
held with twine that tears into my muscles
(ripping them apart at the seams,
ripping me apart at the seams)

i can’t release it

every now and then a brick
will fall from the pile,
forcing me to stop, to mortar it
to the wall i try to repair

i can’t rebuild it

a pile of bricks behind my back
held with twine as thin as a line of fire
(burning me up with every step,
burning them up with every step)

i will release it

Full

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

i dislike how early you wake me
frightening me, preventing further sleep
i toss, i turn, i wait for relief
but have none

you hollow me out from the inside,
a ladle scooping out my strength,
but i will overcome, i will
because you don’t control me

despite your persistence,
you have met your match in me
and though you think you’ve hollowed
everything, I am still strong

(the strength, it comes from another part of me,
the one you cannot touch, the one
with a persistence that beats you down,
carries me into the wind, makes me full)

Waterfall

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

where does it come from?
the hand slapping strict rules of my youth?
the overworked and underpaid parents?
or the soul, searching for reconciliation?

i will never know

but i work to suppress it,
the overstressed frustration
that overflows onto them,
a waterfall of impatience
out of which they cannot swim

i am looking for the pool
where the river has settled after the fall,
where we can jump in and out,
never worrying about head bangings
or rapid currents,
where the water washes over us
in cool, complete calm.

i know it is there, waiting
(perhaps on the other side of the cliff)
and we can find it if we
take each other’s hands,
hope for the best,
and dive.

I’ve Been There

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

he has carried her in the crook of his arm
to the point of exhaustion for both
yet
even long distance I can hear her cries,
I can feel the stress rising up over phone lines
and all I can reply is, “I’ve been there.”

she handles it as flippantly as a new mother can,
mentioning only her concerns about the schedule,
the lack of sleep,
the looming return to work,
but he is not so sure
and when she tells me she must go
it is not because of the crying (now settled)
(innocent, newborn) baby,
but because he is stressed.

and all I can reply is, “I’ve been there,”
knowing the words will
never be enough to
cover the overwhelming burden
(of love)
that comes with becoming parents