Tired


I get tired of the bad days,

the aching days,

the days where it’s tough to get out of bed

My friend calls them the “too many spoons” days

The weather changes and I’m lost again

I can see it coming, but like a train,

I can’t stop it

So, I get grumpy

and I get snippy and sad and overwhelmed
But, I have my words still

so that’s something, right?

Breath of Words © 10/19/17

Artful Insanity

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Time stops,
a random occurrence,
while we collect our thoughts
(I think we’re lost)

but, maybe not
Maybe, we’re found,
caught between
figments and notions
of fiction and reality
as we spin tales
for other’s eyes
(such greedy spies,
they gobble up our words
)

Time starts,
we twist words and weave stories
because insanity is art
and we play a part
in our dear readers’ hearts
(or so we hope)

Breath of Words© 2/6/17