Ambiguity

An omen parks itself on my doorstep
As it draws in closer my vocal cords stretch
my throat begins to tighten like a screw
and I helplessly bleed tears I cannot explain.

All the things I have to do. Sunday.
I scribble along my fingers, chores I must not forget, paired with the daunting, dreary place I have no choice but to attend.

Church. Romance. Time is sapped between these roots, neither can I cross the lines that overlap.

A voice echoes through my ears; I call from a cage as it erupts peacefully, I'm overflowing with memories.
Unhealthy matter I just can't let go
I call out again.
I persist hardly hearing my own words.
Unheard by bounteous human nature.
I kneel and weep again.
The omen, opens up to me like a daisy stretching up towards The Sun. God.
The omen rages in it's blow upon my senses
I check my hands. Beyond repair.
I gaze sympathetically at a broken reflection.
I mourn.