An Identity Crisis

As the lightning cracks
My heart splinters.
The thunder
Flatters me.
The rain sweeps
Around my neck
And chokes out reason.
The sun burns
My stubbornness bright.
There
Are days
When I’d redo it all.
I wish that I could pick myself up
And turn around
And never look back.
But from one wife to another,
I’m turning into a
Pillar of salt.
Pain isn’t distracting me.
It’s my own desires,
My apathy.
It’s a pillow that has stayed dry.
And so my heart
Does not run to a Father
Who puts me together.
And as
Much as I hate
To admit my incredible folly,
It’s burning
Behind my teeth:
There is no immediate need,
So there is no need.