the Unknown

It’s always at the back door
clamoring around like some dingy sweater you only wear
when everything else
is dirty.
The one that makes you feel like everyone else
is looking at you
like you’re
dirty.
It’s that feeling
waiting to get in
feeling like a mountain of sin
rotting flesh and sickness
its stench rings in your ears and
rides on your back.
We run from it,
which only brings us
closer to it.
The past,
the present,
the unknown

gunshot

undefined
that song came on

really it never matters which one

you’re in all of them

you’re in every day

and then gunshot

and you’re dead again

Before death…

I never pleaded so much with it

to be life. To not be

the end.

Your end

the finality of it all

yet still

daily I grapple with grasping

at wishes

of life after death.

There’s never an answer

But I’m forever plagued

by the questions.

marriage #2…..my life

Skipping the poetry for now……..this is my life

You get married a second time, you hope it will work.  Yes, I said second, and it’s more like pray it will work.  Mostly for the kids sake.  I keep thinking about how damaged they must be at this point, with all of my failings as a mother and a wife.  Let alone what a second failed marriage would do to them.  Yet here I am.  My heads killing me from all the crying.  I know my daughter can hear me, and still I can’t seem to stop myself.  Sitting here staring at the screen, while I’m supposed to be working (from home of course).  Feels like everything is slipping away.

It’s that impossible intersection between ‘I don’t want to go on’ and…’I can’t NOT go on’ because I’m no quitter.  How do go on?  There’s a house, a mortgage and all that lovely stuff to deal with.  My kids, his child.  Mine isn’t the only heart to be broken by this failure.  And I am broken.

Despite all of our misgivings and arguments, I know he’s a good man.  He’d never cheat on me and he hasn’t.  I know he’ll take care of me and the house and all that other stuff I always hoped I’d find a man to take care of….and he has.  I keep remembering the promise he made that he was strong enough.  Except he wasn’t.  And here I am again.  Wandering how I’ll make it through.

What Death left behind

Selfish me aches just to know
those gravel roads still roll
under your old jeep
your beat up, grease covered hands on the wheel
but no.
YOU took that away
YOU held the gun
YOU left us all with no choice but to keep on living
while you
didn’t
and now all I want to know
is WHY.
Death’s finality suffocates and we’re left
with so many wishes
and “if only’s”
and “what ifs”
always leading back to WHY.
Echos of loss piled on the unknown.
Yes
you’re really
gone.
no matter how many times I say it
my heart can’t seem to believe it

Anna K Peters…goodbye cowboy