It could be worse. I am cognizant of that.
‘It could be worse’ fills the empty space that is my mind right now.
You stress & stress & stress until it is in fact worse and then you think of when things were better. So for now, it could be worse is fine.
I will live with that and give thanks because when I thought things could be better rather than worse, I was shown how bad it could be.
It almost makes me feel like I’m not allowed to want better but I think my lines are just crossed. Its ok to want better & strive for it while being grateful for the here & now…I get it.
Writing until the letters tumble from the pages is healing.
New words are formed
from the alphabet soup in my lap
Gossip has imitated life for far too long.
There are three small reasons to stay,
Two words that make it better
Both spoken daily as the constant reminders to the purpose of my unfulfilled desires.
Yet one big reason to leave
Quiet sadness looms over head like London Fog
It’s presence has been obvious for so long that it is ignored and suffered
“I’m Blessed” —
What else could I be with a certain measure of health that keeps me sustained?
20 fingers and toes that tickle with mischief,
6 legs that skip in tune,
4 bright eyes that keep me alert,
3 hearts that beat as
The last word in this alphabet soup of mine & it needs no explanation.