Take My Time (11/2018)

I take my time, but it gets so quiet.
Silence.
When I get back to normal.
Still don’t know what that means.

Speak. Give a sign you know you’ll be fine.
Bridges sings, ‘take me to your river.’
I try to shy away from telling stories to myself,
but the quiet lies and pulls me out of my shell.

She takes aim at every part of her day.
Down her back, a quiver.
She works, she shakes, she shivers.
She misses the sunshine life used to give her.

Bridges sings, ‘take me to your river.’

So I try to stay in my shell.
Cold hands, somehow, in hell.
No more stories to tell ‘til you get back to normal.

Time rewinds and races.
It’s rooftops and old photos of faces.
Two blue gifts, memories, on a wall.
Windows and rough roads
will take us right where we’ve wanted to go.

I take my time, but it gets so quiet.
Still don’t know what that means.