My days have been slathered in zesty
Sundried
Sauce
So much so, I think I'm pruning
-
What, with the tension headaches,
And this new thing called,
Opening-myself-up-to-others,
Hearing the recoiled,
"You're weird"
But bouncing with laughter.
I can't tell if it's good or bad yet.
Maybe it's neither.
Normal, not the one word
I would ascribe
But
Today, I wanted to create
Instead of letting the night unfold
Into misery
-
I thought of someone else today
And felt sad for them,
Not myself
And it was good