Fix It

The lights twinkle as the rain falls, and I breathe.

The unknown circles my head like a cyclone
Only feeding me glimpses of “what ifs”

I take another sip
And as the warmth runs from my lips to my toes,
I do my best to let go

As much as I try
I cannot control it all
The joy
The sadness
The right
The wrong

So I sit
And I breathe
And I say a silent prayer to the universe

“Fix it,” I pray.
Make it all right.
Take away the pain and the sorrow and the wrong at every corner.

Fix it, dammit!

Another sip and I laugh.
Amused at my foolish hope of some grand being,
Some power that magically makes wrong right,
That makes bad good,
That heals the broken-hearted,
Or brings back to life the living, breathing dead among us.

The rain stops
And a ray of sunlight surges through the window
And possibly… unwanted

If I believed in signs, then maybe…

But today… I don’t

Today, I’ve sunk to that place that I don’t often visit.

That place where my face remains neutral,
While my soul is a tangled mess.
Where my heart remains hopeful,
But my head knows better.

Fix it, dammit!!

And the sun taunts me.
It dances now around the room,
And has the nerve to touch my face.

I miss the rain.
Today… I miss the rain.

Fix it, dammit!

Tori Burris Inkley

Not Yet

As I breathe
And as I sigh
And as I wish it all away…
It whispers, “Not yet. Not yet.”

As I mourn
And as I cry
And as I curse the powers that be…
It whispers, “One day. One day.”

As I yell
And as I scream
And as I question the whos and whys…
It whispers, “Let go. Let go.”

And as I run
And as I search
And as I feel alone and lost…
It whispers, “You can. You can.”

“You can. You can.”

Tori Burris Inkley