She was my shelter;

But she was also the storm

Clarity is a rarity,
clouds cleared
so, I can see
sunny shades
radiate before me,

and it only comes
with a good night’s sleep,
whilst eating healthy,
exercising, reading,
chatting, and thinking.

So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough

I am bursting
From stomach to seam
With this overwhelming
Sensation
That some would call
Satiation
But I would call
The enemy

Wanted to do Everything …..
Ended up doing Nothing…..

on the canvas. I was
wet and dripping like a feral
kitten. My creator didn’t lay me
out in the sun. And so, my colors

run. The red and blues
look purple. The mother’s milk
curdled. Throwing me up as *****. And so,
I left a stain. Beaten by the brush

I lost my sense of touch. Now
I’m oily. I’m a spill in a broken
frame. I hang on the wall as
a flower. None admire me. But I haven’t
nerves to leave.