Sunday

This is a poem about a particularly difficult Sunday in my life.

Sunday, like so many other Sundays...
Communion Sunday today.
Panic took me, not by surprise -
There's got to be another way.

I'm mad at God, for reasons known
To very few, even myself.
But it suffocates my spirit
In ways that severely limit itself.

I had a panic attack, left church,
Met one of the pastors outside.
She walked me back in calmly,
Sitting with me until I regained my stride.

My psychiatrist came in late,
Saw me struggling hard
To remain in the building where God was,
He saw me drop my guard.

I bought a .45 auto after service,
A bad idea at best.
But having been in war and sex abuse
I just seek out some rest.

Sunday, like so many other Sundays...
Not every one Communion Sunday.
Panic may take me by surprise -
There's got to be another way...