Tired Enough

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She's tired enough in Summer.
And burdened to breaking.

A person creeps along with passing summer, shooting meth or worried sick; either way she is falling down to utter misery. Tell and tell and beg and beg, but if she can, she will. She'll shoot up. She'll sleep and worry and blur her mind with regrets. Attend, she hopes, to this foolishness she finds mesmerizing. Like a horse throwing his 150 lb. head, hoping you'll weakly scold.

We step out of the way, let this woman go. Only God can help, in His biblical ways, He who so loved the world that he stayed the storm on the Sea of Galilee and even stood in for the loss, terrible loss. I want those ancient Semitic words on delicate, gently sheened paper with gold edges. His chanting words for all this to somehow work for good.

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