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at odd times
at odd times
i find myself weeping at odd times during the day
helplessly adrift amidst a past present and future
out of control in the illusion which never existed
wishing for a step back hoping for a step forward
moments arrive unannounced of a sudden despair
washing over heart thought and each of the senses
all swirling ever more downward into the darkness
the hoarded collection clinging to the swollen soul
then the tears end as if cut off as if they’d run out
drying on my face in place leaving invisible marks
a tightness to the skin tells me where they touched
i could wash them away yet i hold to them in hope
chaos dictates the journeys in runnels of the cheeks
etched uneven and eroded deeper by time and age