Braving Through — a poem

“Papers” by Ganamex is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

Braving Through

By Jane Tawel

January 30, 2020

*

Toddling, really,

Since it all began, at least if not more.

I fall-down daily,

Toppling over,

in a mess

amongst the pots and pans,

or dandelions and weeds.

*

And I don’t get back up,

But lie crumpled where I fell

until I suck each bloody finger;

Or lick a tissue I find in a linty pocket,

winding-up flimsy paper,

into a pointy little wet periscope,

And dab my skinned knees until the tissue runs red.

I leave a bit of skin in every day’s hard pavement.

*

Today I wake and don’t want to.

I feel it might all be over,

and I can’t get my head working right and my body won’t unwind to stand.

I tell myself all the things I’ve always told myself

about God and life and love.