A Peculiar Cloud

the way I hold sorrow nowadays
is released in songs and quietness;
it’s edged with exhaustion and
undercurrented with peace

it’s a peculiar silver-lined cloud

i’ve not preferred the
loud wails and epic thunder-
storms, hurricanes, floods
for quite some time now,
prefer a more moderate climate
to weather these worries and woes
don’t let the tempest-demon rise
again to chain me a shell of what
i once was,

long ago, like a
shadow of just yesterday.

how much can my heart take in
these seconds, these moments,
when i see the raging agony raging
at me through the red eyes of
a loved one bruised from
too much worry, too many lies

i wonder at my security–or insensitivity,
depending on which window you choose
to see me through, which chair you choose
to seat me in, which dress you choose
to robe me in–i wonder how i can stay so

un-fazed. should it worry me?
is it numbness? denial? or is it
a true peace,
edged with violence and
undercurrented with sorrow

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