The Paddock Review

BUT FOR THIS MESS

 

I know what I would give for better now, if I could

but for this mess.

 

Now is a party for the wolves, their latest victory

before all bearing down, all of them staring,

why and what for I can only show my

two empty hands, legally ring-free

and without issue, maybe

arthritic in a year or two

but for this mess.

 

So what if they were bare long before

the party pack grew from its blip inside

some wolf’s idler dream of all our futures

next?

 

But never mistake the small, bare things

as having no defense their own.

I can call any mile of scorched earth

a path already tread twice or more

 

First lesson to guard against any force of will:

To stop is the greatest danger of all

Pockets are better empty, for no burden

is worth a price more than another voice

lost while screaming full tilt no more, no more…

 

So bare and still not broken go my hands

but for this mess,

for I am beyond any guise of mercies false

the wolves will drag from their den of lies,

their lies masked as righteousness to test

my own will to persist,

 

to choose how I will exist next, chose the hill

where I may be left for dead,

to be left this body to wreck for she is mine to wreck,

now, my sole guard among wolves.

 

This poem is from the book but for this mess by Cara Lorello (Finishing Line Press), and can be found at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/but-for-this-mess-by-cara-lorello/