Saturday Mornings

Sweet potatoes for breakfast

Sleepy morning all alone

Thoughts rush in an early morning commute from bed to desk

Candles without time to light

Comforter without the patience to comfort

Sleepy eyes begging for a few more winks of sleep

Saturday mornings

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Scatter Brained

Teatime turmoil

Thoughts escape the rope you wrapped around them

Thinking into self destruction

Tea leaves give no answer

Trying to escape the thought race

Longing for the finish line of peace.

Peacetime arms race between me and my brain

Pieces scattered

Scatter brained

Pieces longing to be peaced together

Human under Construction

Soft songs seep through closed eyes

Sharp words through the soft hearts

Hope waits for everyone

Love hides behind curtains only concealed by those who don’t look for it

Sadness seeps through the cracks left by builders paid to tear down and rebuild

Human bodies constantly under emotional construction

Destruction with permission.

Puppeteer

Thoughts trickle down my spine

Tickling my senses

Waring with my nerves

Nervous complaints

Tickled spine all alone in a room with only my thoughts

Thoughts that are powerful

They’re little minions moving me this way and that

I am their puppet

They lead me, directionless, to a soft padded room

Where there is no hope for escape

How I long to be the puppeteer

 

I’m Sorry Mom

Mom I miss you

I miss our stupid arguments

I miss the way you used to hurt me with a smile

I miss the way I never used to understand why you say the things you say

I still don’t know why

And I know it’s messed up this relationship we have

And I’ve been trying to stay back and keep moving towards healthy relationships

But i cant help missing the way you make me feel

Even when I hate feeling the way you make me feel

And I know you don’t make me, it’s just the way I feel

But how can you miss something you know is bad for you?

Mom I miss you

And I dont know why

And it’s so hard not to know why you miss your mom

I love you so much

But I know you’ll just keep hurting me and you

I dont know how to find the healthy in our relationship

I just want you to know I love you and I’m sorry

I’m sorry I don’t pick up the phone and you dont understand why

I’m sorry I can’t be your baby or your little shit right now.

 

Failure is My Middle Name

Failure is my middle name

Goals incomplete

Left behind next to ambition

Onward and outward

Tummy growing faster than achievement list

Laughing stock

Take stock of all the almost completes

Recycle ideas and diets

Always starting tomorrow or Monday

Wish I was someone you could be proud of

Always having to take breaks and start over.

I’m sorry.