A Wigwam for a Goose's Bridle

(from a week or so ago - I forgot to post it at the time!)

Every time I arrive at this destination, 

once again I think that’s it. There’s no longer

any point. There’s no longer 

any question. I’m not enough, 

and never will be.  All of these

mistakes - is this rock bottom?

I think that every time, and yet 

every time seems worse than the last. 

I dread to think how much deeper

or darker this pit could be, and yet - 

just when I am giving up hope, no, 

worse yet, when I have given up hope,

and am therefore considering 

giving up the fight, somehow

you answer the cries I didn’t even hear

myself making. How did you track me down, 

here? How did you know where to find me?