Sometimes you’ve got to vent, then pray it saves your head.
Let it go!
Let it rip!
Let it ride on black while you’re blue.
If it only stopped at red.
Instead, my unhinged roulette spins off course into a storm,
Down a ravine I didn’t see.
No time for a Hail Mary scream.
I hit rocky road bottom without the ice cream.
Where do I go when I’m down this low?
Not farther south to bellwether hell.
Sitting for an eternity in the afterlife breakroom,
Filling out the same form until my fingers bleed.
I ‘m not a big fan of fire or brimstone,
Of charred dreams roasting on a spit.
Don’t want to linger in God’s basement
Where the ambiance trends toward grim.
So, I search for sky and find it,
Get a grip on the craggy mountainside.
I look up, never down at dusty footprints left behind,
While I pace myself to avoid another slide.
I dig in, holding onto hope on a rope, without the bar of soap.
The beat of my feet a slow steady motion.
Don’t want to peak before the peak.
Energy lost from all the bitching, at the top, I will sleep.
One eye open,
One eye closed,
Looking forward, looking home.
Another load of laundry,
Hampered by the memory of dirty clothes.