bump in the night

insoluble problems bind me
i rush out of the tyranny and into the desert
and try to forgive a situation
for being what it is

there are all these things
that go bump in the night —
seasons when the sun doesn’t shine
and the wind doesn’t blow

but it’s like the attack is coming from my insides
and these eggshells might as well be stone
and these words might as well be glass

and the brokenness of this sinking vessel
makes the middle of my story
way more frightening than what has already been