She's a giver

My wunnerful prethcooler is thuch a giving perthon. She shares eferyfing with her momma. Including her head coldz.

A Conversation

Stomach (to me): "Eat. Now."
Me (to stomach): "What? We just ate two hours ago!"
Stomach: "Eeeeeeeeeat."
Me: "Okay, okay. What do you want?"
Stomach: "Beef jerky."
Me: "EW! Too salty!"
Stomach: "Jerrrrrrrrky. NOW!"
Me: "Okay, okay! Here's the jerky!"
Stomach: "Mmmmmmmm"
Me: [gagging] "You happy now?"
Stomach: [rumbling] "I think so."
Me: [belch] "Ugh! Too spicy!"
Stomach: "Then what did you have to go and eat jerky for?! Sheesh!"
Me: "You wanted it!"
Stomach: "Yeah, whatever. Oooo, look over there!"
Me: "What?"
Stomach: "Apple strudel!"

Mary Mary Miss Contrary

Every word I choose
is the
wrong one.

I cannot speak
except to
deceive
argue
dispute.

Am I nothing but
a cliché?
An adversary?

Is my very soul
distilled
down to a single
abhorred
memory?

My words are left behind
meaningless
dismissed
reduced

like a forgotten sauce
left in the pot
too long, crisp
and unwanted.

Baby steps

One day at a time. That's all I can handle. Focus on the now. Eyes down, one foot in front of the other. Don't think. Don't contemplate. Just go from moment to moment to moment and if the minds jumps ahead, make it land on the idea of what should happen (not what shouldn't) and use that to manifest/build/create the positive future that lies ahead.

I am never satisified. Even when things go well. I must change that and enjoy life as it is and as it is coming.

Introduction

I am in pieces.

He came to me
in a dream.

Taller than I.
Familiar.

He embraced me,
and spoke,

"Don't worry.
Everything will be
as it
Should.
I will take
care, of us
Both."

My fractured fibers
(nerves)
knit together.