They were sitting on my nightstand just like anything else
I’d empty out of my pockets, but they were gone now.
“Where are my glasses?” I questioned. “I can’t see.”
Was I tired? I am hungover, Why aren’t I hungry?
I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.
Me vacillating has become a familiarity, my actions
have created a chain reaction of distraction from my priorities–
in what moment will I discover that I am always losing things?
First my glasses, next my sanity, because I’m sure the next time
I can’t rely on me just being lucky. “Get your shit
together Kymmie, you’re not free if you are a slave to
irresponsibility” is what my conscience is telling me. God,
I know this…I do. I know. But…
Time lied to me..it did just a few years ago when I had my back against the wall.
I was working so hard, but time told me to “Keep going”, said one day
I’d be sending post cards from exotic places, no one would know where I
laid, but would remember my name, because I was the one who escaped
away unscathed, but I am still here staring my past in the face. We are getting
closer, but when? Keep telling me to not give up, but I ask when will
I get to go visit her on Mother’s day? When will he be the one to take ME out, and actually pay?
When? the days are too familiar, so why…am I expected to
stay tamed? To remain the same?
My glasses are still missing, but I suppose I get the message. I guess…I have to keep