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I wish I could see,

but not too much.

Not too much bills-I-

can’t-pay-sores-I-can’t-heal-skin-I-

too-many-wrinkles-I-too-flaky-dry-too-much-news-

too-bad-too-much-sad-the-text-that-screams-too-loud-

too-much-not-enough-too-many-to-do-not-done

nottoomuchbutjustenoughsight.

Just enough to feel okay down deep below,

where the knots swim; anxiety,

and the glances once taken which can’t be undone- GOD!

Dear God, there’s no rewind button

back button erase or mute button.

Give me a button

please, What is that thing there?! I don’t want to see.

Don’t want to know. I don’t know what to do with it.

Fear the worst, flex imagination. Oh God! Oh God.

Oh God I’m afraid of the mailbox, these days.

What a load of stuff to carry from mailbox to trash canister.

Is it one month? Two? Three? Three months of mail from

mailbox to trash canister – carried with eyes lifted

upwards and away. The bin’s lid opens and I:

lean back, close eyes, let go, but again

there are no brother sister arms to catch me.

Please God, please God, please God, why?

Why do they call it faith?