Melt Down

When I let them out-- finally,
my tears are smooth and hard.

I feel like a baby again,
crying about what I don't understand,
about what I don't have,
crying about feeling helpless.
In need of outstretched arms
to carry me far above the ground.

What a drink and cigarette won't fix
--my own despair.

The wind is getting harsher
and my jaw muscles are strained
from holding everything back inside of me.

The crosstown bus must be trapped
by a garbage truck and UPS.
Of course.
Immediate escape costs 7.50
by yellow cab.
Emergency- I can't let go,
not in public, the sidewalk
is too naked a place to be fully exposed.

I dig for change and leave a bad tip.
The cabbie doesn't care,
he wants the sad girl gone.

The keys are in my shaking hands,
and I don't pause after entering my apartment.
I reach my room and
without turning on a light,
place one hand against my upset heart,
and the other against the wall,
just to remind me how to stand.

My eyes close and
the tears fall,
my voice is cracked and worn
when I speak again.