#909289 added April 17, 2017 at 7:19am Restrictions: None
Manic Monday
What a Monday, exposing me, the wilted one with petals falling out! To live through this surge-after-surge day, one needs a conquistador’s sword and mapmaking abilities. This should be the twenty-four hours that never existed or a day with nothing brutish, nothing with a jagged rhythm, nothing that makes me run on jet fuel, want to harpoon a whale, or bare my scorpion stinger. On this hectic day, I’m everywhere I have known well, but that everywhere is somewhere I’ve never been to, and I am wrapped in awkward drafts, hurrying, timorous and meek. Contradictory to the alleged notion, the meek inherit nothing, but the rushed muddle up everything, and how I undulate in my swirling, creased outfits--with hair askew and expletives escaping from my animated lips--does not necessarily point to a kinky Aphrodite revealing herself. And the point of my calefaction is, now, at the end hours, I rather need a gift, a gift of the infinite as a prize for my plight, empowering me to gather words without thorns.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 9:35am on Nov 05, 2024 via server WEBX1.