I fear that I am empty
There is nothing left of me but time.
The acceptance that my days will be spent as a butterfly who is a caretaker – never free.
Nothing left to say.
Imagine, this blog is more than I can emote.
Do I have anything to say? Worth listening to any longer…
Who wants to hear the words of a caged butterfly?
• The smallest chore overwhelms me
• Laundry piles up, both clean and dirty
• The bed goes unmade although it bothers me
• I’ve given up on so much, there will never be a novel or even a short story
• My weight will always remain unmanageable
A lost friend has been discovered and I wonder how long before she disappears
Nothing to say – I pray for the tides to turn. For my friend to stay with me; for me to bond and work on being connected.
A caged butterfly.