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Francie Lynch Oct 26
"Write, edit, re-write.
Post, edit, repost."
My finger prints are fading fast;
I thought they were here to last.
They used to linger where I'd please;
I've lost them now on laptop keys.
void Dec 2018
Drag out of

Bed and into

Clothes for the

Day. Stumble into

The bathroom and

Brush, rinse, spit.

Line eyes: one,

Two, three. Each

eye, each lid

Gets three. No

More, no less.

Slide down the

Stairs but do

Not forget the

Gate. Throw on

Shoes and make

Way into the

Kitchen. Grab something

To eat – wait

Don’t. Coffee won’t

Make sick so

Just pack a

Lunch for later.

Leave for school

And brave the

Day, take it

In threes. Count

Your steps: one,

Two, three. Earbuds

In; can’t hear

A thing. Class

Passes ever so

Slow, sludging along

Until all the

Threes are up.

Make playlists in

Threes to make

Sure it’s enough.

Everything done is

In threes because

Anything else would

Be too much.

Even in twos

Or ones. Take

Care of body

Of mind of

Living space in

Threes. Clean and

Nourish to remain

As healthy as

Can be with

Allergies and sensitivities

To almost everything.

Do the best

That can be

Attained and maintained

Without a toll

In the long

Run. Remember to

Go by threes.

Listen, breathe, be.

One, two, three.
Francie Lynch Aug 2015
I don't pick my skin,
Pluck my hair
Or number things.
I wash my hands
Many times a day,
But I don't check doors
Or count footsteps.
I set the alarm,
But I don't re-set;
I'm meticulous
But not perfectionist.
I'm self-critical,
Not self-loathing,
I'm proud of my kids,
But I'm not doting.
There's one thing
I'm obsessed with:
To be in your heart
Every minute you live;
To touch you
Before leaving a room,
Have you wash over me
Under all the moons.
I'm not looking for a cure,
I love my disorder.

— The End —