September. By Joannah Vaughan Wyx

September. Original poem by Joannah Vaughan Wyx. All rights reserved.

Performed at www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYBiu2dKQmc   

 Here’s why I was heavy in September. September is Sunday night anxiety; back-packed, school stress & wind-swept weeping-willow. “Look, you made the right decision at the time” rings in my most of the time grown-up mind.

Look September, I delight in taking a breath of your sweet fresh-air. But on the exhale, unspeakable sadness, & head-in-hands feelings freeze my nerves.

In the distance, I hear my favourite female whisper; “Look,a good cry is good for your skin.” But she’s not here anymore; To hold my hand, To kiss it better, To chase the demon away.

It’s up to me now. Yes, I might be a grown- up But it’s still exhausting, Coping with this big wide world. Waiting, anticipating and ever-ready for October to shove September out of the way.

And then, in a blink- of- an- eye, September's slammed the door. Like a burden lifted, A violent-past- love alighted. My mind celebrates & dances.

Yes, my spirit is still praying hard, But not September hard.

And, you guessed it, I can breathe again… Well, occasionally I have the hiccups, stammer & forget what month it is...

Still, I make time to pray, every day, for those kids dealing with it all, And I thank God, I'm getting on… And, that one day my favourite-female will let me cross that line on the horizon, So I can see her face again.

“It’s not your time yet Joannah, go back to Jeremy. “ She said, last time.  When I nearly crossed that sacred line.