Fine
Every day I try to find ways
to help me survive
the trauma that has become my life
My one cat screams at me
as if she senses
as if she knows
the falling is apart
I tell her
"We are going to be fine,"
You have me
I have you
I will be fine
She needs to know that
She needs me to be fine
I need me to be fine
I hope my coming world is more than just fine
I mean, fine is better than disaster
But ...
Fine is nowhere near a rainbow or stars in the sky
Fine is like boxed wine
Not fine wine
Fine is ...
A day without rain but no sunshine
Fine is ...
A bush that is alive but shows no rose blooms
Fine is a house full of rooms
But no kids, because they all have moved
Fine is all the things you settle for
when, for whatever reason, that's all there is
I drink more wine now
boxed wine
I search out companionship
sometimes frantically
I spend hours alone, often intentionally
I got a prescription for my anxiety
I cook and clean and work tirelessly each and every day
all of these things as ways to make me feel safe
I'm self medicating, avoiding therapy
I don't really know why
For the same reason I filled that prescription
but not taken the medication
I don't really know why
I have constant anxiety attacks
I have a cluttered mind
Yet ...
As each day passes, in some ways, I feel fine
fine is where I'm at
because, for too many reasons ...
for now ...
it is all I have