"Hallelujah" starts playing.
The sad one
with major lifts.
Fitting, I supose.
Opened Blogger, counting.
Verified for Instagram
the 960 entries.
This makes 961
if I publish.
One would think,
COVID equals TIME.
Words should've poured.
"Document it all!"
Hah. As if.
Keeping children fed,
bathed, educated, stimulated.
That took everything.
I was spent.
Words didn't come.
They still don't.
Not really, anyways.
But, today, again.
I start over.
I type words.
One, two, three.
It's a start.
Also. A goodbye.
Book of Truth,
no more Neeb.
I'm not ready.
Please don't retire,
It's too late.
House is listed.
Email is revoked.
He's left me.
Not his fault,
but still gone.
So, new guy.
Last name unpronounceable.
Going with Gary.
Hope he's good.
Hope he's brave.
I've got baggage
and it's heavy.
His turn now
to help process.
heal, rally, persevere.
Mental health matters.
Grief. PTSD. Insomnia.
My "other" trifecta.
Flip flops on.
Fancy earrings in.
Left off mascara.
I've got this.
