It is a pool.
It is not a drawer
or a folder or a book.
It is not organization.
It is open envelopes
spilled out over the floor
and I’m trying to sort
my mail – the birthday letters
from the love letters
from the bills
from the crap
that’s given to
everyone else
and is nothing
worth reading.
– it is a pool.
and not everyone
likes to swim.
It is a pool, but not
a pretty one, not an indoor one,
not even a contained one.
It is a pool of spilled milk
all over the kitchen table
and not everyone is
ready to cry over me
– it is a pool.
and I’m over here
on the deep end
waiting for you to wade in
so I can toss you the lifebuoy
I don’t have.
This is a slow drowning
process, relax. and breathe.
This is not…
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what a task!!!! we are still at it.
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Great thanks for commenting!!
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