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mandy-owensbyPoems
Small boxes, edges with just a hint of curve items deadlines keys to a puzzle and dot to dot to dot....connected The hours spent climbing up and down this little two dimensional ladder on yellow legal paper when I'm done, I'll feel something pride relief I take the weights that pull heavy on my time and my mind, and squeeze them between the two guide lines, cursive please the crisp check inside of the box, awards and accolades must know this feeling On this list that no one sees, my life flows in roller pen ink and pink sticky notes- just to make sure I don't forget. Don't forget. This. Then. Me. coffee cup rings and circles around the shameful thing that must go on tomorrow's list. get it done and you will know relief. The metronome of my hours, minutes, seconds as the boxes are ticked tick tick tick Accomplishments. And yet I feel betrayed by the sun slipping under the horizon, it was only just watching my progress from its noon perch. enter the data. search the name. find the right person to call. smell the rain coming in through the screen door. Soon sleep and cloudy dark night will push those boxes, unchecked, to the next page, another day. Another tiny ladder to climb.
0
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
list on yellow paper
Small boxes, edges with just a hint of curve items deadlines keys to a puzzle and dot to dot to dot....connected The hours spent climbing up and down this little two dimensional ladder on yellow legal paper when I'm done, I'll feel something pride relief I take the weights that pull heavy on my time and my mind, and squeeze them between the two guide lines, cursive please the crisp check inside of the box, awards and accolades must know this feeling On this list that no one sees, my life flows in roller pen ink and pink sticky notes- just to make sure I don't forget. Don't forget. This. Then. Me. coffee cup rings and circles around the shameful thing that must go on tomorrow's list. get it done and you will know relief. The metronome of my hours, minutes, seconds as the boxes are ticked tick tick tick Accomplishments. And yet I feel betrayed by the sun slipping under the horizon, it was only just watching my progress from its noon perch. enter the data. search the name. find the right person to call. smell the rain coming in through the screen door. Soon sleep and cloudy dark night will push those boxes, unchecked, to the next page, another day. Another tiny ladder to climb.
mandy-owensby
Written by
mandy-owensby
American
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
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