meeshie

The marker of a year marched past, waving its makeshift sign and screaming in my face. It went unremarked, but not unnoticed.
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He is moving closer. He's not the devil, and I'm not a little girl anymore, but I still hear the hell hounds baying in the hills. She is getting married. She wants me to come, to be her best gal. She wants me to smile and pretend that everything is perfect and everything is well. On the edge of a nervous breakdown. Will He be there? Will she trick me again? Dare I risk even getting so close? The span of the country is a much more comfortable distance.
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I am tired of the lip-service. Pony up and put out. You had the children, you wanted the title, now give the time and enjoy it. Don't tell me you're doing it. Everyone sees you just standing there. Everyone knows you've been forgetting to care. I'm watching. I see. I'm not the one who matters, though. It's the ones who come up to your hips and your chests. The ones who crave a million different things in a million different ways.
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OUSD needs to straighten itself out. Perhaps it should receive a pummeling with a cluestick.
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Disjointed thoughts. A disjointed need for more sleep... or more coffee... or maybe just more.