sometimes

Sometimes, the air is just too heavy.
This has been one of those times.
Caught in the vortex between the death of a dear friend and the death of my father, four years ago.

Sigh.

I so desperately need to sit and be held, to feel the warmth of a sympathetic shoulder and chest against my back, to feel the warmth of loving arms drawing me close.

sigh

Maybe I should plan on entering the Poetry Slam on Friday.
Even though I won't be held, I will get to loose some of this heavy air.
My heavy air merging and dissipating into the musings of others.
Maybe.