if you don't have an image are you really a blog post?
the louder my life is roaring around me the quieter i am. i have little to say.
here in la jolla the ocean is blocks away. i hear it roaring and it fills the empty place where my thoughts were tangled like a briar bush. we are fading like roses from the sunburns of a long afternoon on the shore.
my autoimmune diseases are blooming. too much staying on top of things brings the body under.
my side hurts and hurts like the persistent crying of an infant. no soothing stops it. it wakes me at night, drags me from the edge of sleep, pulses under the ocean sounds. under. i have an appointment, expensive. they will look deep inside of my body and see what is there to be seen. ovaries that hang like buds waiting to burst or be dead headed. i might be angry at them. they might kill me one day. they are diseased already. but they brought me my children. and the last, Ever, they allowed me after two white coats said she was impossible, that i was done carrying children.
i am ready for red wine, and sleep.