medicinal words and pictures



It wasn’t you

Sliced in two

Who fell apart

Bruised the heart

It wasn’t you

That really knew

The end result

Would be insult

It wasn’t you

That walked on through

Passed on by

No blink of an eye

It wasn’t you

That had no clue

That held so tight

Knew wrong from right

It wasn’t you

I can’t believe to be true

That would be so bold

Not my hand you’d hold



Weekly Writing Challenge: Lunch Posts

Weekly Writing Challenge: Lunch Posts

During this limited period of time, take a look at your surroundings and document what you see.

What terror lives here?  That is the message on the faces sitting so near. Their eyes lubricated and wide, spiced up with adrenaline. This is a human adult trait, trying to fool perceptions. To act in a way of total control and calmness with a magazine on their knee, but read their inner thoughts and sheer fear and dread ensue. The child like poses are not visible in their outer shells, only in their heads.

This place to most is a fearful place full of anticipatory anxieties, sadness and loss. To me, it has been a home. My place, owned and loved, full of joy and excitement. New beginnings and long term friendship. Like a dolls house, I know the nooks and crannies. Like a child to those who are unfamiliar with the building, I sort pleasure in running them through the secret staircases, showing off the passage ways to other worlds. With a joyous burst of adrenaline and excitement, not like the adrenaline on these people’s faces.

Today however I have to sit like these people and pretend and play their game of looking like one thing and being another. I am here in the hospital waiting area with my Mother and me the nurse, or am I the daughter. I am as confused as her. She is the Mother the protector, but she has brought me with her, the nurse to also be the protector and her guardian, I don’t think we know which is which but comfort is found in one another’s presence. We sit, her with that look in her eye and then the test is done. I wonder what my eyes tell as I sit here. Are my eyes the same, full of spice?