I’ve yet to identify “this”; 

Whatever has taken over.

 It’s officially set up shop. 

Where profound grief was held,

I have held for far too long and. 

Debilitating, 

Consuming;

Grief.

The heinous kind that makes you frail and weak.

He assumed I am broken beyond repair.  Just the other day,

The other day at half-past four. 

The frail was gracious enough to take the subtle hints and leave on its fruition. 

The weak, was eventually knocked out cold. 

Broken is no longer synonymous with my surname. 

This feeling has been quiet. 

My whole life, the maddening and unfamiliar burn. 

At Half-past four, I Feel crazy, certifiable. And without direction.

I was blessed when it finally got me and consumed the holes left by those above weak and frail.

I think the last time I felt the wind get knocked from my lungs. 

It arrived.

I couldn’t place it. 

One day on my torture filled afternoon. 

Like groundhogs day

At Half-past four

Grief does it’s drive-by, blindsides me.

Every single day. 

All-day, I’m unhappy. 

White knuckling life.

 I’ve been Pretending rigged up in my puppet shows finest costume acting like I know what Normative behavior is/was. 

Sometimes I’m so good I’m almost nominated for best actress in a stomach-churning never-ending made for TV movie.

Nevertheless, half past four comes.

At half-past four,

My puppet show is a flop. 

The Marquee crudely graffitied with bad words and heinous reviews. 

I guess normative isn’t something I’m great at.

At Half-past four. 

My insides graciously give way—nothing holding or forcing me upright. The lights are out; the curtains have long had their final call.

The other day, My fear was trumped by fortitude 

At Half-past four.

I demanded an explanation 

“I feel like I should hate you, 

I want to. But now I’m 

Hoping you’d stay and chat. 

Explain yourself. 

Why’d you come again today?”

Half-past four speaks for the first time.

Vocal cords no longer severed. 

Half-past four properly introduces herself.

“I’m your rage, your crazy, your feelings and truths you’ve shoved down. 

I’m Half-past four. 

I’ve been here waiting,

It’s long past time,

Joslynn,

Your final step starts here.

the battles are over, time to finish the war.”