My writer's muse usually starts after a cup of joe
but tonight is a different roll
coffee in the morning with ice rain in sight
bitching in the afternoon, my husband in mind
watching powder snow as cars sliding reflect of my eye

Then three beers, Natalie portman, and some editing

Let's not forget I'm a perfectly heterosexual girl

What?

Now with redbull's scent close
and the taste of hotdogs
my mind rolls, it tolls to wurthering heights

God knows why I even alluded to that
I fucking hate that book.

Can't
Stand
It.

But what do you care?

You're here to read
Something philosophical
Something like tweed.
It must pull at you heartsrings!
Its requirement is to almost itch at your skin.
Leave feelings of bitter
Leaving the desire to change

But who am I to tell you to change?

I am just a girl… a mere woman on an invisible stage.

Who claims to hark like a Meadowlark
And aimlessly strives towards perfection
eating hotdogs and sipping redbull
while her husband sleeps
and the baby does too.

I am but a woman who gazes out the window.
I cling to my words as I cling to my life.

Relentless.