tumbling points

i sat on the grass out front
while the party raged on inside
and disdainfully sighed
"oh help," i said
muggy summer, kool-aid afternoon
i felt tears well up and jaw tighten
and the orange glow of streetlamp
blend with the blue of night
and rays burst through my
watery eyes
"what is the point?" and
"what am i doing here?" and
"when will i be happy again?" and
"why aren't i fun anymore?"
(i have heavy boots - i thought)
but really i feel weight in my
shoulders - in my chest
oh my heart and i thought of
the word hope.
"poppycock," i said.
i hate it here.