It's not you, it's me,
I need a break, to be free,
Kindly leave me be.

We tend to forget
that sometimes the goal
isn't the end
we've been chasing.

We all chase happiness.
Running farther,
Leaving things behind,
Sacrificing so much.

We never realize
how far we've gone until
we look back and see
everything we missed.

So, by all means, chase.
But look around,
you'll find you're closer
to what really matters.

I think you're gorgeous,
It's my secret. I'll let you
in on it one day.

I tap my notes with the tip of my black pen
Before I dare to look... then I look again.
I endure for another ten,
****... I just can't resist
And another cookie ceases to exist.
Hey, at least now it can't disrupt my zen!

I quit insta to
join this. Sadly I can't fix
haikus with makeup

I open my computer,
And suddenly it seems the average commuter,
Is either suffering and in pain,
But as I look through the window, out the train,
I see nothing but a little breeze,
And so I ask, can we get good news for once? Please?
Selfish or heartless are words that may come to mind,
But it's just that, these days, good news is so hard to find.

Rather than wait, they told me
As soon as I returned:
You were unexpected.

Of course, I thought it was a joke!
Family dinners don't usually

Start with
Unusual silence.
Not a word until our parents
Stressfully and tentatively announce your presence.
Having learned of menopause
I thought it was a joke
Not understanding that you,
Eleonore, were already on your way into my life.

A bright new sun and playful wind,
Threading wooden hulls,
Along the canvas of the sea,
Propelling billowing clouds,
Along the burning morning sky,

A bright new sun and wings of wax,
Dripping onto an exposed back,
Flying, hoping,
Burning,
Falling,

A bright new sun and a cold, endless sea,
Quenching flesh in brine,
Soothing youthful innocence,
The canvas swells, clouds left rolling,
As a new sun rises, the day begins.

Splatters of dark red,
On dirt canvas  littered with holes,
Such is art of war.

What is a day,
                     If not a night?
                                             What is night,
                                              if not sleep?
                                                          ­          What is sleep,
                                                          ­           If not starting anew?
                                                                ­                            What is starting,
                                                       ­                                      If not forgetting?
                Wait...

                                    Whe­re am I going with this?