Catharsis

April 24, 2017 by Usha Pisharody 5 Comments

I asked her

How she was.

Okay, she replied.

Inadequate, seemingly.

But that is a four letter word.

Okay.

And, as four letter words go,

This one is definitely loaded,

With more than meaning.

Nothing ever is Okay,

Especially if you’re answered with one.

 

It’s the stuff of nightmares.

Each, epic in proportion.

Needing purgation, through

The naming of the fears.

And so you find a friendly

Unsuspecting soul, and unleash

The weight of that okay…

 

Like matter, dark or otherwise,

It merely changes form, and

Leeches on the listener.

She said, she was okay.

And told me how much she wasn’t.

 

I understood.

Now I carry the weight

Of all she never can tell.

 

23 April, 2017

Day#23 of #Napowrimo, 2017 – National Poetry Writing Month 2017. An other write that demanded expression.