For Sure

I woke up just like any other day. I woke up and took care of the dogs. The visiting dog. I drank coffee and chased all dogs into the house. I fed the cats. I looked at the trap. I choked back the tears. I woke up. I tried. I still try. Discouraged. Is it still the same thing when you try but still feel discouraged. Where is He? God. This entity in charge? Where is He? I looked under the couch cleaned to a point of aggravation. I took more pills to feel better or to feel something. I would like a pill to take that made someone else to take care of me. I would. Call it escape. Call it giving up. Call it what it is. A need for help. They all scream as if I have put baby scorpions in their shoes. These folks call it pressure, and I simply call it telling you of my needs. My needs become unnecessary. My needs become whines from a puppy dog. My needs feel beyond ignored and never encouraged. Where is the ghost? Hanging in the gallows patiently waiting for its spirit to come back to life. That's dedication. Or obsession. One or the other. Highly dangerous too. It could all change in a blink of an eye. I have seen a bevy of crows. In the road. In my driveway. Calling to me from the trees in the woods. In the field. Next to the barn. Looking dead at me. Still unconcerned in a way. Sick though. I'm sick. But that cant ever happen, since Im impossibly invincible. That's the supposed legend at least. Legends go out in a fiery light, and I fear there I am. It seems to be more and more up to me. Running to stand still. It's a U2 song. And one of my favorites. I'm a little able. But not completely.