Weakness

Sometimes the busy days, churning like an accident in slow motion,
are more than anyone can manage and I freeze into a frame,
cold and without feeling anything but shocked
and out of control.

Numbness sets in and I become the robot of myself,
smiling an artificial smile that mimics reality,
and I walk through the days
without letting in a single breath.

I walk out the door
angry, crying for time,
and know it will all be waiting for me when I return
like a predator waiting for the weak member of the herd
at the edge of a field at dusk.