My morning alarm screams its call,
Banging, clanging, mangling, my head.

My head hides its eyes from sight, from light
Scurrying bodies skip, blur, slur by

Mom where’s my shirt?
Honey, where is my briefcase?

I’m not getting up, mom, my oldest yells.
I’m not either, I think, but my feet hit the floor anyway.

Shower, clothes, coffee wish, shower, clothes coffee wish
Dark circles, too many dark circles… blush maybe

My mascara tube is dry, old, and unwanted.
My mascara and I have a lot in common.

I only have eight minutes left
Eight minutes to get them to school

before they get another tardy
and I’ll get another reminder

of how un-together I really am.
There never seems to be enough

enough money or enough me
to make enough of anything.

The house is never settled.
So I am never settled, silent, still

The sound of my tires under my car
is like an old comforting friend.

If I could listen just a little while
Maybe, I’ll finally hear my ‘self’.

The frozen hamburger meat spins
around and around and around

to the hum of the microwave.
I wonder what it feels like to be frozen. 

I think I would like to be frozen.
Maybe in the cold, cold quiet, I will re-surface.

My tires are talking again. They speak
of non-sense in some sense of a rhythm.

I think I really want my car to be my best friend.
I desperately want an un-needy best-friend.

Dinner dishes and he kissed the back of my neck.
Kitchen sink-water falls like shattering glass.

I notice how worn out the kitchen faucet is looking.
I can empathize with my kitchen faucet.

Pushing himself closer to my body, my shell
The counter digs in under my ribs reminding me I’m real,

I think…I wish this felt warm and I wish I felt sexy.
I look down at the rubber yellow gloves

covering my hands and I say nothing
 I know he needs to relax.

But, when will I relax like that?
Probably never.

I shove my ribs against the counter harder.
Needing the reminder of raw realness.

I lay there in the dark, silence is creeping in.
I feel his body jerk into the deeper realms of sleep.

The quiet of the room is simply overwhelming.
I pray for peace.

Pray for sleep.

By: Sassy Jacksun ©2014 updated
© 2014 by JustAskHer Productions® LLC