Somewhat Sane

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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.

 

 

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.100_1244

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.

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.

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Is it sanity that heals the madness?

Or, the madness that deletes the sane?

Could it be one in the same?

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.