confessions of a social worker
there are days
i wish i could untangle
my limbs from these lives
pressed between creased sheets of cardboard
i grow so weary
of trying to bleed hope from clenched fists
i can feel the marrow
in my bones dry up and flake away
i want to gather up
these sorrows
like mewling unwanted kittens
bound for the river
and follow forever in reverse
until i’m standing
in the center of the desert
and with relief filling my lungs
i will watch
the wind and sand conspire
to erase
my footsteps
there are days
i wish i could untangle
my limbs from these lives
pressed between creased sheets of cardboard
i grow so weary
of trying to bleed hope from clenched fists
i can feel the marrow
in my bones dry up and flake away
i want to gather up
these sorrows
like mewling unwanted kittens
bound for the river
and follow forever in reverse
until i’m standing
in the center of the desert
and with relief filling my lungs
i will watch
the wind and sand conspire
to erase
my footsteps