sometimes

sometimes the screams in my head,
though not voiced,
are deafening

sometimes the desire
to escape from all that is familiar
is almost magnetic in its pull

sometimes it is hard to remember
to "look at the intent"
rather than the action or inaction of well meaning people

sometimes my smile
is a cover up
for pain that is too raw to share

sometimes the loneliness 
sneaks up as heaviness in my chest
and is almost suffocating

sometimes I just need to sit on my back porch
in the quiet, alone, save for Bill's dog Sam,
and let the tears stream down my face

sometimes the struggle to walk by faith
is huge
and requires teeny, tiny baby steps rather than normal strides

this is one of those days