It drives me mad, you know? The way that the light flickers in the office. But then again, this house has always been mad in itself. Too full or too empty of what the heart needs. Always drought or flood. How is one even expected to breathe in that type of environment? The ceiling light…

I spy my favorite thing. No, I don’t see it just yet. I always seem to lose it or it morphs into something else. Lost among the lids of my best tea set or in between the chocolate chips at the ice cream shop. Sometimes large enough to decorate castle walls and other times microscopically…

I need more than verbal. Action to show sincerity. The follow through instead of quick passing. For I know the laws of dictation better than most. What comes from the mouth does not necessarily reflect the sayer. Holes of self hidden by the unspoken filter. Crafted specifically for the target. What they yearn to hear.…

I don’t know how you do it. Face each day anew. You know what awaits you. It stands ahead knowing that you will come. Dark as a raincloud and just as ominous in spirit. Conserving energy as you use your own. *** How could you ever hope to win this battle of wills? You continue…

I have realized why I have always struggled. Never seemed to fit in. Stripes and feathers never quite matching others. It was because I was not exactly their kind. I was just created differently from the beginning. I was just born to be a mockingbird. *** A conglomeration of so many sounds. My mother’s quick…

I would like to think I was different. Smarter, more resilient, learned. But I also have learned from experience. I know it would work on me. That loaded sigh. The feigned weakness. Beautiful way you break with practice. You know that I am no different than others. You lose now to win in the long…

Would you blame me if I would leave it all behind? Taking the good and the bad to abandon in kind. Craving the unfamiliar so I could make it mine. *** Home is a living contradiction you see. The hospital feels like a second home to me. Pain and discomfort as normal as could be.…

He sits there staring at the ceiling. There is oh so much work to be done. What she requested. What he had neglected. What sits safely out of sight. He meant to return. Left it ready for preparation. It would be so easy to start again for he made it so. But a voice speaks…

I never ask for much. Never for perfection. Just enough to function. I run like a classic car, you see. Runs a little rough and not treated well by time. Paint missing here and rust formed there. Maybe fixed prettier after a share of attention and care. But never new again. Forever classic. Parts can…