Seven days late

I thought
I was still
Young enough
For the one thing
But maybe
Actually
I might be
Old enough
For the other.
It still
Hasn't come
But I tested
Clean.
I celebrated
With drinks.
Forgot
Panicked
Plans.
A negative
Can be such
A positive.

Adulting

I put them on the bus
Check the mail
Apply the makeup
Feed the cat
Seek out
All the wrong patches
To mend a tear
In my already deflated soul.
Make coffee.

I feel the crashing down
The cracking the breaking
The tearing and rending
Suffocating strain.
The shattering of the universe
That no one in the world
Acknowledges.

I make the dinner
Run the bath
Help with taxes
Fall into blackness
Watch some Cheers.

I can't
Anymore
But I have to.

Is this all
Adult life is?

he's home

standing there
eye shut
with my forehead
pressed to the wall
i listened to
his sleep mouth breathing
in the afternoon
work shoes on
jacket still on
unopened mail splayed
across his tummy
immediately
dead on arrival
i had no one
again.

Ours

Here's some
Frustration. Relic.
Seed to continue
Where our foremothers
Left off.
Never surrender.
Never give up the fight.
Reviled.
Imprisoned.
Died.
As I sit comfortably
In my age
Watching the tide come in
To snatch it back
From under our
Indifferent
Noses.