Giving Up On If

I was awake early

Thinking of you

Wondering

Where you would be now

If . . .

If, a tiny word,

Clawing at me, cutting.

I curse it.

Go away, if.

Insidious, hateful if

Defeats acceptance

Or attempts to,

And I wrangle with it.

Go away, if.

Do not confound

What I hold now

As fact, however

Wretched the veracity

Is in my world.

Go away, if.

Do not taunt me

Or toy with my feelings,

My strength,

As feeble as it seems

Sometimes.

Find another playground if.

The game is over.

I’m finished.

Go away.

                       

Judith DeChesere-Boyle, September 2015,

                                    With Alex on my mind . . .