Some days start off heavy
and never lighten up. Bones
and joints ache from years
of bending and reaching and lifting
and pushing and remind me that I’m
not 23 anymore although in my head
I am.
Some days, no matter my wants
or intentions,
I simply can not muster diplomacy,
end up being blunt instead of kind.
Then worry about it for days.
Some days I can not wash
one more dish, one more load
of laundry, one more dirty, smelly
dog. Not even my dirty, smelly self.
Some days the light is too bright,
the music is too loud,
the smell of Ligustrum too sharp
for my migrainy head.
This is the end of my hard-fought poem.
*****
Napowrimo Day 16
I hope today is better!
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yes – some days you must fight for every single letter, never mind word, of that poem. I hear ya! I didn’t write yesterday (will play catchup one day this week, like I did last). Hope it gets better – can’t imagine the migraine helps at all. Hope it goes and stays away. Sending hugs.
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Headache better but still at low burn. It’s the spring pollen. Such a gorgeous season but, man, that damn pollen!
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I relate to this poem in a big way, especially the aching bones.
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Seems like the aches come in cycles and I’m definitely in one now.
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Our bodies definitely do not cooperate with the self we hold inside, and our words can betray us. This is so full of ache and truth. (K)
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