My other (highly neglected) blog

Just messing around, so I wrote this poem on my other blog about my Endometriosis and how much it sucks. If you wanna have a look here’s a link: http://dirtyfilthybutterflyblues.blogspot.com/2014/07/endometriosis-stage-iv.html

Not in the most fabulous of fantastic good moods today. Not by a long shot.
I have not been writing as much as I would like or reading that much lately either. I have been more zoning out-than “in the zone.”Creativity is evading me. Perhaps my Muse is hiding under my bed. I wouldn’t know I have tons of junk under there.

On a good note, my very talented niece might be coming over to give me a haircut. We shall see. If it turns out awesome I might post a picture.

I will try to write more poems later-on either or both of my blogs.

sometimes there are times like these…

sometimes, there are times
like these.
times where you cannot help those
you love.

sometimes, there are times
like these.
times where you have to step
away-away from the fire and blaze

away from the words
that they say.
away from the frustration
away from all that negativity.
away from all the pain.

sometimes, there are times
like these.
times where no matter what you
do or say-
there is no comforting.

sometimes, there are times
like these.
where you cannot find a band-aid
big enough, to fix everything
for somebody you love.

sometimes there are times
like these.
where even the simple act
of giving a hug

is just too much
too hard to handle
too much to bare.

Not my circus, not my monkeys…

An old proverb
has been circling the
cybersphere lately…
Not my circus, not my monkeys.

I ponder its meaning.
As I re-examine
lost souls in my life.

sometimes the drama
is much too great
much too overwhelming
to engage in.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.
As I imagine cotton candy
high wire acts, a circus of
clowns.

Sometimes you can care
for a person quite
a lot but you do not
wish to go down the dark
hole of a tunnel
within them.

You try to lend
a helping hand
to lead them out of their darkness.

but as you try to grasp
for them their hand
just disappears and vanishes
into deep depression.

and its like a tornado
has a hold of them
and they are trying to
pull you down with their ship
like someone who is
only interested
in drowning.

and then you whisper
shellshocked,
not my circus.
not my monkeys.

Good Reads Give a way-enter to win signed paperback,”Yesterday’s flowers and other things.”

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Yesterday' Flowers and other things. Poetry and Art. by Emily H. Sturgill

Yesterday’ Flowers and other things. Poetry and Art.

by Emily H. Sturgill

Giveaway ends August 17, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

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