Intensity drops in,
early, before
I have a chance
to set the day in order –
puts me on the defensive.
She clings
encourages me to hold on
her sick creativity awake with impulsivity –
I am ailing
loyal
compelled to launder the linens
Desperately trying to find the corners
in the circular fitted sheet –
dependent on daily chores.
She wants to talk about feelings
but I am still numbed from sleep
from this never-ending illness,
from this perfectionist drive for optimism
She wants to embrace
hug me into submission
lecture me on the benefits
of organics and loose-leaf teas
and I am too busy avoiding her
to be grateful.
(Originally written in 2018, and edited here. Image my own)
What an interesting metaphor, VJ.
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Thanks LuAnne. It was inspired by a prompt, of course.
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Fitted sheets and I have a terrible relationship! After all the fussing and hard work, the corners don’t fit and I have to start all over again.
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Right?! If they weren’t so useful, I’d chuck them, lol.
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I have some sheets that have small tags on the sides and ends for easier covering. But I agree…I’d chuck them too but they are so useful and nice to lay on!!
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Poignant and powerful, VJ…
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Thanks Lauren
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I’m particularly drawn to your image. As for fitted sheets, I pretty much give up on ever finding corners and roll them into a messy ball.
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Lol. Me too these days. Thanks Liz
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You’re welcome, VJ.
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Loved the poem. Thanks so much for sharing. And as for those fitted sheets! A friend was so frustrated she created her own that is user friendly. Calling it The4thcorner – as that is the corner where most of the cursing might take place when they don’t fit. haha.
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Brilliant! Thanks.
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Wonderful poem! Sometimes artistic and creative urges are hard to ignore. They must have an outlet. I love what you have created here.
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Thanks I.V.
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Too often, the “help” is really just self-involvement. So much effort must be expended to be properly grateful. (K)
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Right?! No awareness of other.
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Oh WOW.
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Awesome as always, still humbling me with your way with wayward words even after all this time. Stay writing! ✍🏻
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Appreciate it.
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BLAMMOgood
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😁
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The image is perfect. The poem is perfect. There is no such thing as perfect. Some illnesses no one sees, but you and God, no matter how many poems and stories it takes to explain them.
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Exactly right, Mary. Thank you
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You have me curling up into my fitted sheets after 5 weary days of not being able to find another day to catch up on all the days that I am behind … the world is spinning faster, and I’m moving slower than a snail …
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I know that feeling, Ivor.
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This image oozes weariness…’perfectionist drive for optimism’
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Thanks Heather. Weariness for sure
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You’re welcome.
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So very powerful
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Thank you
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A very moving, heartfelt poem
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Thanks Sadje
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You’re welcome
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