1/14/15 8:38PM

these days and nights
are too long and lonely
I’m not living by myself but rooming with fear and anxiety
bringing bad health on me
sittin in the dark looking for words
words won’t you be my be my friends tonight

words hiding somewhere here within, with presents
and keys to unlock doors,
sweet/bitter treats,
something to comfort in my upsettedness
something to please
no, not so much to make me laugh
(really, laughin was never my thing)

oh this winter chill,
so long and isolated
if only I could be mindful like Oprah

mindfullness,
I’m just a mess
did I mention fear and anxiety,
oh yeah, I see I did,
how bout confussion dilussiion,
intrusions of ah-ha! moments
only to be shot down by my damn imperfection
approach avoidence
(BTW- this it’s my blog, my place to weep)
all a magnification of the darkness, even with the lights on

how does my momma do it
a soldier of solitarity for 91 years
a general of obsesive compulsive order
everything is a place and if its out of it,
the old girl becomes not an old girl but a………
sorry mom
your life and being has been too long and too lonely
you’ve suffer’d so much
I know you ask Jesus to take you home evey day
sometimes twice on Sunday

your egg (me) did not fall far from the tree
I am you, I learnt well how to create a life of
days-too-long-and-lonely
with nights of fear insomnia and pain,
damn the pain, emotional and physical,
nothing works, even prayers alude me
so what is this I do, this writing thing I’m doing
who’s it to?

to me of couse, for I am my only friend tonight
I listen to my rambleing complaints and I feel for me,
I can’t help me, but I can empathise, $10 words from a dunce

books, ha!, can’t get into it tonight
if only I could go over those Misty Mountains with Bilbo and crew
those were my days, the days of youth and adventure
of long drives in a band van
from coast to coast to coast to find a dream
when all the while I was leaving a dream behind
I didn’t even have a clue

So who is the receipient of this whiney pity party poor little ole me non eloquent
redundant excuse for a poem, (not a damn rhyme in it) whozit for?
God forbid you waste your time reading something only meant for me

these days and nights
are too long and lonely
I’m not living by myself but rooming with fear and anxiety
bringing bad health on me
sittin in the dark looking for words
words won’t you be my be my friends tonight

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