Not today. Most definitely tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow. We’ll have to make it work somehow. But definitely not today. Not right now. For it just cannot be. These bones are tired. These bones ache. These bones wait for a reprieve. All I got is what I have right now. No Reserves. Only a half full jar. Just enough to get by for right now. The wheels turn round and round and I can’t catch up. Stick my finger in the engine and it just won’t run. Took a stick of butter from the fridge hoping to grease it all up. But the wheels keep turning round and round and there’s no way to get on. Where is the fairytale carriage? Where’s the lantern? Where’s the Genie in a Bottle? Nowhere to be seen. But the wheels keep turning round and round. These bones are tired. There is just an ache. But must keep going. For who will take that baton? There are no relief pitchers. There are no designated hitters. There is just there. But sometimes there is no there there. There is no reserve. There is no piggy bank. There’s just the half full jar. We shall see what tomorrow dares to bring.
Categories: Health, identity, mental health, photography, Poetry, Psychology, women
Right now, I have just bathed the dogs and have nothing left in me. I poured out most of that half bottle to do it. The next bottle I pour out will be Merlot.
LikeLike