Jibber Jabber

Yesterday was really rough, but anyways here is a poem I wrote this week, a sunset, and a wishing for better days…


Dibble, dabble, babble
Silly tongue, it runs short of words to create
My eyes flood this interpersonal landscape
Throat dry, CO2 what have you
I tried to take you in but you were too hard to swallow
Your body a roadmap with endless trails to follow
So it slips my lips
Babble, rabble,
Fall of the jaw
Uneasy fingers fidget
While these legs wobble ready to fall
Knees ready to kneel
And my heart coincidentally has plunged to the ground
But these eyes can’t help but wonder away
Out of your face, and ready to hit the hay
I guess it’s been a day


Bad Week 2017

Maybe we can blame it on mercury in retrograde or perhaps it was the hangover. Anyways, this week starting from January.1st has been a complete write off.

It all began when I awoke to the New Year after a night of heavy drinking. It was Sunday morning, I sat up beside my partner the bed felt abrasive against my skin, the air was dry and stinging. I walked outside dreary eyed and mentally tired, my mind half asleep dealing with the alcohol and the constant social events .My body called a quits, and I hollered for alone time but off I went to work. The only thought I had clung on to was that work was 5-11 and soon enough after perhaps after some writing, my ducks would be back in line. Six hours passed, and so did my thoughts while my hangover improved throughout the night. It was 11 and off I went to bed, to the staff room preparing for a night of soothing solitude, to write until the early hours or maybe until the dawn. I whipped out my laptop then all of the sudden there was a hard knock on my door, it was a staff who was supposedly starting his shift. I was misinformed and told I would not be working the overnight so there I left.

With empty pockets and a pleasant surprise I hopped into the car with the intention of writing the night away. I went to the furthest Tim Hortons I could find, antisocial and ready to rumble. I passed the perimeter on an empty gas tank and into suburbia I went. A Tim Hortons was in sight. I parked my car and walked inside. I scanned the shop for an outlet, no plugin. So I bought my coffee and left. My mind was already scattered from the day that was so very disrupted.

Overtired, fears about my mother amplified, she did not answer her phone since 11am and it was already well past midnight. I tried to call her, still no answer. I drove around the hospital she frequented and looked for her car, nothing. So I went into the car drove some more, drifting into panic mode to a panic attack. Breathing became hyper ventilating imagining the worst case scenario I began to cry. I thought about who I would call but could not bring myself to phone anyone. I pulled over and stared at my phone, I slipped into an episode then I caught my breath. Emotional flashbacks replayed in my mind and the outcome was the growing notion of responsibility for my family that I have to take on. Suddenly a night craving solitude took a 180 to a stressful event.

I ditched the idea of writing that evening and continued driving to my  Moms, I sat in her house with the dogs. It was almost 2am and still she was not home. I then left hoping for sleep. Luckily the next day she called me to let me know she was safe but ill. In relief of it all, in the morning I was ashamed of the feelings I had and could not bring myself to tell anyone at all. And as each day ended the next day has so far only gotten worse.