Writing emails in the late afternoon
is a bad sign.
The stress that arrests my chest before dawn.
The feeling I am right.
The worry I was wrong.
The injustice that sizzles my pride.
The truth is I’m along for the drive.
I’m just another passenger in a
funny clown car ride.
Can I eat enough crow to
survive the freak show?
Pretend I don’t know the
way the cycle of a couple
bad choices goes?
I release my clinched fist
and let the dice roll.
© 2023 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Very powerful message & can definitely feel the anxiety here! ❤ Great verses.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tom. I wish I could say it was all fiction. 😂 I know it will get better, but its the getting through it that’s rough. I appreciate you connecting with me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
God! I’ve been there; a wrenched state to be in; you’re frazzled and freaked; but you will get on top of it, I’m sure 🙂 the whole poem is perfect though I do love ‘the passenger in a clown car ride’ —
LikeLike
btw great image; so apt —
LikeLike
An engaging and creative description of this human existence, K.
LikeLike
I know that sort of email!!
LikeLike
Wonderful, K. Heartfelt and powerful. 💕
LikeLike
I’m feeling you K, stay strong and keep going! 😉
LikeLike
Excellent! I like the emotional truths your poem shares. We can all relate!
LikeLike