Coming to Terms

Ruminating on the past,

marinating in the present,

terrified of the future.

They say these things come in threes.

I try to go deeper,

but it feels as if I’m digging my own grave.

Six feet under,

but my head is in the clouds.

How do I find the middle ground?

Ruminating on the past,

marinating in the present,

terrified of the future.

God help me.

Me, the godless woman with good faith.

Too naïve to take a second to think.

Ruminating on the past,

marinating in the present,

terrified of the future.

Break me open,

blindside me,

and set my soul on fire.

They say these things come in threes,

but I might be just floating through the seven stages of grief.

Chaos Smiled (Amalfi, 2019)