Trying to inhale
Waiting To Exhale
Is on TV, so you watch it
Even though Angela
Basset makes your eyes water
In disgust every time you see
Her ooze her way onscreen, you say
Why Not, It’s A Breakup
Movie, like giving it a label will
Make it any better of a film. You
Get angry with the bevy of
Women, shaking your fist with
Them, wondering How In The World
He Could Do This To Us; you lean
In as the flames lick the sky above
The car (as the Strong Woman takes a drag
You feel like crying instead of cheering) and
The proverbial guilt-flames trace the outline of
Your esophagus. You watch nothing as the
Credits roll, that familiar I-should-call-him
Feeling writhing in your gut, as the couch
Unravels, your life unravels, and you hit
Bottom. You cry soundlessly and innately,
Knowing that this is the farthest you will
Ever fall and it will never happen
Again. You remain for a couple of hours,
As the repeat viewing of the same movie
Comes on the same channel and the
Same scenes play out, crying and
Attaining something like catharsis,
Knowing that the constriction in your
Chest is nothing short of abnormal.
The knife in your heart gives a lurch
And twists as you raise yourself off
The ground and attempt to smile
But only contort your face in a
Mockery of contentment. It will
Take longer for this pain to fade,
But when it does you will be so
Grateful. That’s the best kind of pain.
The pain you learn from. Learn from
This. Waiting to Exhale
A second time. You try to
Inhale.