Would You Stop?

 

Would You Stop?

(“When the Lord saw her, He felt compassion for her and said to her, ‘Do not go on weeping.’” Luke 7:13)

Would you stop the world for just one moment,
would you look at me and see the scars
My clothes are worn, my heart is torn,
and my eyes cannot form the beauty I once knew.
No one sees me, no one notices,
no one watched me drenched in tears.

The gentle hands have become hammers
to
drive home points of disagreement. The voices
that once cracked with mutual grief
now shake in appalled increments like
the last line in obits where it tells who
was left behind.

Would you please pause time so they can see me,
would you place a parenthesis please so someone can drive
by and remind themselves why we were
friends in the first place?
Would you help them remember their promises of love,
would you help them see what has died inside?

There are no more discussions; even debates would revive
the barren patch that goes against the grain within.
They stay away while the pain twists my brain like a spigot.
They feign loyalty, while correcting me for the density
of death I express. If I lied about life, they would applaud me.

Would you please lift me off the carousel, the horses have
run their course. Would you revise this edition of me?
I want no thrill rides, just a quiet meal with anyone who
once pledged their love
and is still unafraid to
give it.

Would you look at me? Would you stop the calliope and
hear me closely? Would you (not tomorrow) attend to this
compressed sorrow? Would you see how the years and hours
have piled up on me? Would you stop and start
with me again?