An eerie sense of comfort in the December mist.
I collect all my faults in…what is unnoticed.
Though, I am not half the woman I think I am.
Isolation in the still-life of rain…
Guards the fact that I am still somewhat…sane.
Somewhat Sane
Staying Sane
All forms of casualty had been deposited in the leftover store.
Many kinds of grave mistakes…placed in a rusty meat grinder and set aside for fast food.
My self-indulgence, to my surprise, had not been so easy to feed.
I began to lay my body in state…state of conflict.
I went to the doctor to shred all copies of my aches and ailments.
He had been in awe of the toxic difficulties…and, staying sane.
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to Blame the Gray
Is it madness that succumbs to sanity?
Or, sanity opening the door to madness?
…
As I watch snow spit at the rain…icy shards of a tragic youth is all that remains.
Splashing ever so loudly on my windows and their pain.
It all appears as murderous conspiracy to blame the gray.
To blame the mundane.
…
Is it sanity that heals the madness?
Or, the madness that deletes the sane?
Could it be one in the same?
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Superficiality and Sanity
Why would anyone wait?
As though, a film of dust dilutes the mind.
Leaving only dramatic pause.
Or…
Climatic sensibility to celebrate.
∇
I ramble astray…in the revelation of each new day.
Nevertheless, a jaded lady often stands in my way.
How crazy?
To feed the madness.
Freeing,frenzy.
In a two-way conversation.
Among the animals and balmy breeze.
∇
A certain humbleness lightens an idealistic soul.
The humanness of my distraction…
An easily portrayed role.
∇
I must not mistake great floods.
As removal of my illusion of opulence.
In turn, a mirage of speculations in a book.
Nor…messages on a wall.
In the smallness of reprieve,
everything stands.
And,
everything falls.
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Sanity
