The Instant Blues

 

The Instant Blues

(“Lord All-Powerful, the place where you live is so beautiful!” Psalm 84:1)

I’ve got the instant blues, the indigo that wraps around my
head like a fog.
I’ve got the instant blues, the claustrophobic morning, smashing my
head like a rock.

I did not invite you here, you’ve laughed at me since childhood;
I did not invite you here, you broadcast your bait like a fishhook.

I’ve got the instant blues, judged immediately but never seen.
I’ve got the instant blues, treated like a heretic, unclean.

I only asked for eyes to see me,
I only desired a wink and a nod.
You never answered, never darkened my door.
You never asked me, never asked who I adore.

I’ve got the instant blues, I stay in bed and wish it was longer.
I’ve got the instant blues, I’ve lost hope, and my heart is conquered.

Why did you take up arms against a pacifist and a peer?
Why did you take up arms against a court jester in the clear?

I’ve got the instant blues, I ink my heart and hope someone sees.
I’ve got the instant blues, I sink beneath silence every Sunday.

I only asked for a card in the mail,
I only desired dimensional scale.
You never offered, never asked why I bleed.
You never called me, never asked what I needed.

I’ve got the instant blues, and the beauty I cried for fills my
heart like summer.
I’ve got the instant blues, and the temple within me is
like no other.
And it fills my heart like a friend,
like a lover.