Every night

The case becomes larger

As you struggle to shove everything

Into the dark nooks and crannies.

No matter how many things are added

There is always more room.

 

Steel-toed boots walking all over your back.

Theory pounding your brain with a hammer.

Schedule etched into your skin as the blood runs.

Judgement’s eyes burning through yours.

Anger slithering up your leg.

Society monkey-ripping your arm out of its socket.

Love slowly and deliberately sawing your heart in half.

Anxiety wrapping its hands around your neck.

Family crawling up your throat and into your mouth.

 

Each night                            

You unload as much as possible

Off of your vacuum

And into Mary Poppins’s bag.

Some things refuse.

Some things release.

Some things retaliate. 

 

It sits at the end of the bed

Like a black jaguar

Ready to pounce on its

Pray.

Somewhere towards the bottom

Of the darkness

Is the child you use to be

Grasping for air.