The Widows Walk

 Most days i feel like i am suffocating under the weight of this.

This dream of ownership that is the steel cage around my drowning body. The iron coffin pulling you into the depths of darkness where no one hears your screams. Alone. The other insulation of inexplicable despair.

I have made a pledge to not abandon my ship, even when I am the one sabotaging its own sea-worthiness. The widowed bride on the widows walk searching for a shadow on the horizon we secretly know will never manifest. The hope for a tomorrow brighter than today keeps our feet circling the nest night after night. I have no exit. No place to leave this ship that is a safe port. I can abandon her and let the pirates strip her for piece parts. Peel away her purpose in tiny mouse nibbles. The death of the whale at sea. The matriarch who wears herself so thin she cannot find a place to die peacefully or with grace. Recycled in carbon molecules invisible to any being that still possesses intentions.

I know why people walk away. Shutter the windows and doors. Exhausted and mute. 

At least my hair is clean today. It won’t look so obvious=. I wont have to try so hard to hide it. 

How does this dream become your nightmare? Like every other nightmare, you cannot wake up from it to shake it back into the recesses or replace it with a dream to begin in its place.