Try Again Later

I'm not ready.
I've changed my mind.
I stare at the curtain behind you
try to close my mind to you
push closed
the heavy door within
lower the splintered bar across it
barricade it
with a peeling, painted wrought iron table
two deck chairs
my high school science teacher
and remnants
of clinging Christianity.
Please go away.
I peer through the glowing crack.
I don't see you
but please don't look
so sad.


For One Shot Wednesday