Tea Bag Proverb
To be calm is the highest achievement
of the self.
Tell that to the young woman I was
27 years ago -- the one whose blood
frothed under the whip of maybes and whatifs,
the one whose brain cycled faster than
a hummingbird’s wing as it recreated
the past, single moments bounced infinitely
back and forth against the mind’s twin
mirrors. That woman created an aura of
emotional disorder in her wake, trembling
hands and shaking heads,
frowns and shutups and fortheloveofgods.
That woman found another woman’s hands
wrapped around her neck.
Even in sleep, that woman tumbled
haphazard through tidal waves,
found herself trapped in the funhouse
of a thousand alternate futures,
and ran from blankfaced gunmen,
only to open the door to
a bullet in the face.
It would be a mercy
to forget that woman
in an unmarked grave,
to let her, finally, rest.
But she visits me, still,
in dreams, talking soundlessly and
wringing her bloodless hands,
pacing the confines of her skull cell,
promising the end of this
and the sweet oblivionof apocalypse.