acrostics

Who Am I Anyway?
When all is said and done
How can I believe
Or reconcile the idea that this might be

All there is to life, or
Might be all there is to me

I don't think it's enough. When

All you gave before is gone and
None remains to get me through I'll
Yell my objections to the sky to
Wake you up; I think you must have fallen
Asleep because I'm certain I can't hear
You anymore.


What Do You Want?
When will you tell me
How to get by
And why it takes so long just
To figure out the small things like

Do you hear me, and is it the same as listening
Or not, and can you save me from this if

You couldn't save me from him?
Oh, to be free
Unfettered by my grief and all the

Weight of my world on your shoulders
Another week, another month, another year, it's
Not important really if I can't even make it through
This morning.

I found these acrostic poems today as I was sorting through piles of paper, trying to finish my packing. I wrote them about two years ago, when I was working at the museum still. I was just starting to realize that my life as I was living it was not sustainable -- and it scared me, because I didn't know any other way to live. I wished someone would take my hand and lead me out of the barren wilderness that I had found myself in.