poem for wednesday.

It feels heavy in my chest
This sensation
Of trying to understand
Why the weight can't be lifted.
This weight
Of what feels like
The World
On my heart and in
My head
Of worries I shouldn't be worrying
For people I don't know
And situations that aren't mine.

But I hurt. It hurts. My chest is heavy.
And I feel overloaded
By what is out there--the world.
The images on the tv, the sounds on the radio,
the pixels on my HP, which I
click
click
click.
Before bed is no time to look.
But I do.
I am tired.
So tired.
Of feeling this heaviness.

And last night
A sudden rupture
in my heart
from something said
that was taken wrong
and my heart burst and burst and
b
u
r
s
t
while it sunk.
Deeper.
And anger rose.
And frustration surfaced.
And sadness consumed.
And now
I am tired.
So tired.
Of walking on eggshells.
Of worrying.
About it. About this. About that.
But the love is there.
For him for her for everyone.

I almost cried when I walked into the room tonight
before class.
I made my tea, and while the water boiled, I reclined
on the sofa and covered my eyes
trying to block it all out
but the voices from my classmates
wouldn't allow it.
And I wanted the tea to
Take It All Away.
The scent of the blueberries
staining their sweetness
into my heart
to heal and soothe
and bring peace.

The warmth was nice,
but my heart still hurt.
Just as my head does now.
But I am here in bed,
waiting for the sleepy-time pills
to take me away to the place
where my heart
will not feel heavy.

I am tired.
So tired
as I write this poem for Wednesday.

with love from Pittsburgh,
Laura