Meting My Needs

 

I carry so much inside of this heart

sometimes I feel it will burst.

I am not patient; ruminating anxiously,

watching, wondering what holds the key?

And I do my best to keep moving forward

pondering if second-chances

are based in reality, or if they’re a myth

that we tell ourselves to keep on keepin’ on.

Joy is gleaned in all of  the small moments.

Hope carried on the fringes of those moments,.

But the light that we that seek,

the love that we reach for,

isn’t always as forthcoming.

We may feel its warmth from time to time,

a will-o-the wisp that rests for a heartbeat

then moves on, leaving us wanting for more.

It’s hard to find stability in an unstable world,

to feel confidence when nothing is sure.

Our want for companionship seems impossible to obtain,

but the need to find love, to give love, to be loved still remains.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

*Meting = measuring

 

Festering

 

You’re caught up in all of the stories you’re told

you watch every day as the falsehoods unfold

there’s no turning back and you will not concede

must stick to the plan now, there is no retreat

 

The barrage of deceit is your one recompense

streamed on a loop that doesn’t make sense

while you share fabrications you barely believe,

to admit you are wrong would accede to defeat

 

Contradictions and "fictions" mount by the score;

each new day bringing dozens more–

your mind’s lost in some kind of atrophy

while you wallow in ignorance, blissfully

 

And you can’t give it up and you won’t give in

to deny your support is a brazen sin

submerging yourself in hypocrisy

while trading out kindness for bigotry.

 

So we march to a place we did not foresee

full of unrestrained hate and brutality

fraught in our fears and uncertainty

inside this contentious reality.

 

How does one admit that the trail they chose

is tainted, as slowly their souls decompose

in a casket of misplaced morality

decaying inside of their own piety

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024