{On, In, and Around Mondays} There is a Balm in Gilead

There are places so dark
that to cross the threshold of their doors
is to
be at once
stolen
and
lost
in one breath

And like one kidnapped
you become ensnared and entangled
in a whirlwind
of confusion
and
questions
and
fear
and all the while
you keep looking at your abductors
you keep trying to look them in the eye
you keep trying to place that familiar flash
that is both familiar and foreign
you keep trying to understand
why

And to be so completely and utterly
lost
is to find yourself so alone
that the sound of your own voice
sickens and sours
and
inky holes open wide
and
you stumble towards them
in hope that they are your ticket
out

I heard that you opened this door
on accident
the other day
that you meant to open
a different one
but doors, they tend to look the same
and we walk through them
innocent enough

People have been offering
rich ransoms
for your return
ever since
and voices have been calling
your name
hoping to lead you back

I don't know where you are
exactly
and there is no easy way to find you
I catch glimpses
here and there
and I hear echoes
of you
but I have the walk
of a stumbling drunk
and I keep ending up where I began

Perhaps you will think me a
charlatan
when I speak of a balm
that makes the wounded whole
but I've heard that, in time,
it salvages
the wrecked
and
quiets
the dragons

It is there,
my friend

when you are ready

Dedicated to J.B.

Linking up with LL. Barkat