Looking through the grains of darkness, I saw

the shadow of Him.

Moving closer with sloppy steps, I came to touch his head,

then shoulders- into an embrace.

Slurred whispers that touched the volume of screams 

vibrated my collar bone as He wept. 

No words could console our hurt.

I left. 

Sliding my feet, eyes wide,

I saw nothing but the cloud of texture that was my door frame. 

Forcing my body towards the bed,

I stubbed my toe on the furniture disguised in the blackness;

My skull hit the headboard before it rested on a pillow. 

The static in the air wrapped itself around my mind,

and I fell asleep to the sound of my breath wheezing, 

a damp pillowcase beneath me. 

Pulling hairs out of my head and mourning the outcome;

Insanity knocks at my brain like the muffled weeping radiated through the wall 

I shared with Him. 

Dark nights faded into even darker days.

A routine spun into wool that tangled in my mind

and came out as frayed strings of incongruous words.

This morning:

My fingers were splintered by the hanging wood on the cracked bathroom door;

The familiarity of it had blurred into a routine sight. 

I questioned the last time I paid attention,

though knowing the helplessness of the memory

never released me from its clutch.

And I cry, all the time, for no reason at all,

yet for every reason since then.

Wondering if God has labeled me 

a helpless memory too.