The bed I need for a napping child is covered in clothes to be put away.
The bathroom smells funny.
I'm sickened by the brutality of Darfur's women and I'm sickened by my thighs.
This sickens me.
Papa's blood is slowing. Clogging.
Limping
Forgetting.
I dream disturbing dreams of rats and spirits.
I feel
sad.
irritable.
guilty.
The cat needs
as do the
kids.
fridge.
stockings.
Guilt, widening.
Thighs, spreading.
Cat stares at me through the window.
cold.
waiting.
4 comments:
let the cat in and pour yourself a coffee. it will all take care of itself.
and your thighs are beautiful. one could bounce quarters on their taughtness and definition.
my laundry is piled and my dishes are too.
i don't even have dust bunnies anymore -- their more likenned to dust giants.
i have to make supper. except cooking anything makes my stomache churn.
all i can say is "Thank God for Cheerios and TV dinners".
Listen to Gloria at least...and then ask yourself if you're having a low spot due to the high you just came off(the party, it sure was a high for me. Roselle
Reality of life, eh? I spent the day in bed yesterday -- sick. Haven't felt like that since 1992 or 93 in Ethiopia when I had food poisoning -- this time it was the flu. Wish I could only blame all my dust and undone-ness on that one sick day. Seems its more that cleaning and all that regular stuff isn't that much fun. Reading is much more educational!
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