A Couple’s Questions

Are you okay?
Did sleep well last night?
What would you like for dinner?
The things I
ask my husband to show
him how much I love him.
What are you doing?
Do you need some help?
What movie do you want to watch?
The things he
asks of me to show
how much he loves me, too.
Thank you, love
You’re welcome, sweetheart
I’m glad I have you in my life.
The things we
say to each other, now
and forever, to show our love.

Hurt does Hurt

Hearts house many things
     Not all are fluffy dreams.
           Some are the darkest beings
                Demons dressed as sheep.
                      They dwell in broken children
                            Crying into the night.
 
       Answering prayers for vengeance
             Their darkness can only spread.
                    Bullies’ words are their weapons
                          Weighted like sharp boulders.
                                 Lashing out in violence
                                       These demons scar another’s life.
 
                  The blackest of evils
                        help those who cannot rise
                              Not with encouragement
                                    But knives dressed as lies.
                                         Sharpened by daily suffering
                                                They seek out their vicious prey.
 
If only kind words were cheap
           They might help save a life.
                        But hey, we’re only human
                                     And we all live in various strife.

Time is My Enemy

Last week, I mentioned I was really excited to start editing/revising my book again. And I was. Honest.

However, I didn’t touch it. Not even once.

Instead my time was consumed by starting a freelance transcription job and a paper route. I was anxious about the flyers being delivered, and waited until they showed up on both Tuesday and Wednesday. For no real reason.

Wednesday night, I started delivering the flyers and my husband helped me after I had started. Thankfully he did, because there was no way I was getting it done on my own! As I type this, my feet still hurt and I think I did something to a nerve in my right leg ’cause it ‘shivers’ randomly.

Needless to say, I have quit the paper route.

My time needs to be focused on my book more than anything else, and it is tough to do that when I’m stressing out about other things. Plus, the route was something I wanted to do by myself, but the size of it makes that impossible which means I’d always need Andrew’s help. That isn’t fair to him.

The transcription job is a different beast. It is something I choose to do on my own time, but I wanted to see how feasible it is. Now, even with a wonky left ear (lately), I’ve managed to transcribe pretty well, and my metrics (which focus on accuracy, formatting, and commitment) are very good for the time being.

What sucks is how time consuming it is to do a short audio clip. Decent audio quality doesn’t take too long until you factor in the speakers and whether they are formulating clear sentences or not.

Still, everything I’m transcribing seems to be interesting and I’m learning in a way I did not expect. I’ll keep going at it, but…

My husband has made it pretty clear that my time should be spent on my book, and transcribing takes a second place to it. Which was super nice to hear.

Sometimes, I mess up my priorities based on what I think he wants me to be doing. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I do need to put myself and what’s best for me first from time to time.

Anyways, moral of this story is… I WILL be editing my book this week or so help me, I’m gonna lose my freakin’ mind!

Take care of yourselves, everyone!

 

To This Writer

Why I keep writing

 

It gives purpose.

It builds a home.

It joins lives.

It allows for calm, peace.

 

It fills a void.

It answers a call.

It sparks life.

It sedates anger, fear.

 

It adds to the light.

It takes from the dark.

It mediates experiences.

It awakens love, hope.

 

It is medicine.

It comforts the breaking.

It builds the broken.

It breaths help, justice.

 

It takes time.

It ages and dies.

It is born again and again.

It thinks on life, death.

Tired

I am tired.

Tired of carrying the house’s chores.

My husband’s constant need for backrubs.

I am tired .

Tired of figuring out dinner night after night.

My dogs’ inane need to whine every morning.

I am tired.

Tired of feeling worthless, hung out to dry.

My siblings’ hateful gaze when I speak.

I am tired.

Tired of feeling alone, pulling myself up.

My inner mind’s dark, dark voice.

I am tired.

Tired of sleeping in, depressed.

My dream’s constant hold on me.

I am tired.

Tired of carrying everyone’s problems alongside my own.

My need to please all those around me.

I am tired.

Tired of throwing myself to the side.

My desire to put everyone else before me.

I am tired.

Why doesn’t anyone see that?

Why doesn’t anyone help?

Why doesn’t anyone lend a kind word?