I need to find Jillian Weise's new poetry book. Search it out of a dusty cavernous store with 3 cats and an owner who manages to disappear before you can ask a question. I want to trip over it shiny new in the dark gloom of forgotten tombs.
I want to rescue it.
I am tipsy gal. One beer in and shaved ice as dinner. I will sleep tonight, but the dreams have lost their prophecy. Good, I need time to me. I overbooked my world again.
Failure to say no.
I am still sleeping. No danger zone yet. How I love to skirt that edge though.
Cannot fall over
Cannot fall over
Cannot fall over
Poetry to prop me up and the reminder that somewhere, somehow there will always be a tomorrow even if it isn't for me or mine.
Always a tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment