A tear fell from my heart.
It was then a puddle on the street,
which became an expanse of ocean.
I looked up at my toe,
Because I was stuck on the ceiling,
My wings remained cemented to the ground.
The zest of one small map pin,
Whistled through the boiling dust,
Punctures the spherical jaws of gravity.
Giant tongue slurps lazily,
From golden gutters, eyeing
The fruit of the scene.
Sometimes I get too bossy and irritate and upset my friends. Then I feel sad and even terrible for having done this. But of course I’m having a rough week too having had major surgery and recovering but trying to do way too much.
I am thinking it’s not just my personality but the way I was parented and a way of communicating (style/ language/ energy) and trying to work on being an amazing listener.