Being sick is no fun
Looking at your to-do list
And not having the energy needed to check anything off
How much longer till bed?
Being sick is no fun
Looking at your to-do list
And not having the energy needed to check anything off
How much longer till bed?
Being empty inside
Left her searching for something to fill her up
Anything she tried to stick in ran right back out
Her only word she used to describe it was…
Life kind of getting you down?
Or are you just having one of those blah days?
Well remember you still have a friend here you can talk to, or Garth Brooks if he’s around.
Being depressed on a day where light rains down from a robin’s egg sky
Leaves her wanting to curse up and down for feeling blah on such a perfect day
Ultimately, she goes to her safe space, puts on some B.B. King, and curls up in a ball
Enveloped in her azure blanket, she lets loose her own rain
Cold pressed apple fluids left outside in a large jug
In the dead of winter the water freezes on top
Driving the flavor into a more concentrated solution below
Each time the blah ice is then removed and the process repeats over and over for months
Rewarded finally with a fermented drink that tasted of sunny autumn days and patience
Being brunette became blah
Leaving Lona listless
Overhauling outward optics
Discovering dubious dyeing
Eventually empowering enlightening
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But the plot will come if you just type words. You just have to believe.
Like that would really happen. He laughed bitterly.
All it meant was the letter vomit on the page might be some sort of Rorschach story form.
He closed the document and went to bed. He had seen enough.
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When Glenda put the curse on Bill he just laughed it off. He was doomed to not be able to taste salt, ever. He could put the whole shaker right on his tongue, but nothing would happen.
Bill thought this was the lamest curse, but over time he found himself eating less and less. He didn’t bother going out to dinner anymore. There was never any joy in food. Other tastes faded into monotony.
His life devolved into the blandness he experienced eating. He went to ask forgiveness, but Glenda passed away weeks before.
All he could say was, “Blah.”
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/36xGGXfezX8/hqdefault.jpg
Begging for inspiration
Losing hope by the minute
Accepting defeat
Ho hum poem
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Tagline
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
Author and poet
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
Story world
SkEtChEs of my everyday life through tiny words, artworks, quotes, clips, and snapshots--- capturing a moment in time.