Tenderfoot by Debra Webb Roberts

This is the ‘WHY’ in my road,
the intersection where I i meet myself,
dissect intentions of a journey to stand
firm or run, again
~~
Reason is a farce,
the make believe that grownups spewed,
telling me everything would make sense

Family magicians sprinkle fairy dust
Historians bury truth like stolen treasure

…said that everything comes full circle,
even as whirling recollections drove me to distraction;
bad tales and numbered days of generations
bound to recalcitrant

(none of it adding up to grand or finale;
blue-blood & ribbons so far back
on the trail of genealogy
that destinations require my own charting

the obvious subtraction in gaining traction,
additional footage of necessary elements ~ plus side ~
still, leaves me outnumbered and hollow
trailing behind the pack of normal and successful;
negatives outweigh positives, I am saddled with a burden
i cannot toss even as miles stretch far into unpredictable futures

zero is a multiplier of empty
of broken promises and dishonest intentions
I jockey for better position, break out
of the pack too crowded, for fear of being trampled)

…said that all things end tidy even as i watched them unravel;
end runs and end pieces spliced, tied in naughts
feeling the bundle of snakes twisting in my stomach,
binding courage to the apple in my throat, threatening to strangle
~~
Splitting hairs required a good eye,
and steady hand, a sharp knife ~
mine dulled by years of use, tongue
lashings and barbed accusations ~ diced hurts
and skin carving ~ faults and folly cut bite-sized pieces
~ easier to choke down

Crow pie is nothing to crow about
foul tasting road kill and sticking points, bony;
family matters picked at like the carcass of a chicken at the dinner table

everyone out of the closet about something; skeletons packed
on pounds, pricking points stuck in my craw ~ still, i choked it down
~~~~
Stuck at a fork,
already, I pick my own side!

To deviate to Left (behind) or Right (minded)
doesn’t matter; I made up my mind
and said my peace, found that choice
is nothing less than Discipline

Slowly I remove the heels
firmly set my tender feet on solid earth;
for what it’s worth it matters not which road i take

~ every road out of hell and hurt is paved
with burning conviction

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