Lemon-Lime, Losing Time

Tart on Tuesday

Bitter in shivers

mind, in disarray

The gap,

between wanting and capacity

the inevitable one off,

lost in wanderlust.

How many neurotypical wannabes

and hopeful morning maybes

will it take

to stop expecting

lemonade, from a lime?

What will it take,

to stop wasting time?

Will I make peace

with dysfunction?

Can I sip lemonade, as it is?

Missed appointments, scheduling mishaps, can’t find my travel shampoo

Damn it!

I keep slipping on my shower shoes.

Pants sticking to my legs

Great, look at all the weight I’ve regained.

UGH!

Pants sticking to my thighs,

UGH!

When will I stop and realize?

Lemonade from a lime,

here we go again

losing time.

Living to the frugal edge,

when will missteps

be the last thing I dredge?

Squeeze harder,

push farther,

square peg into a round hole.

Shouldn’t I know by now

how to manage the toll?

It’s not worth it

if it’s imperfect!

No fifty in sight

One, two, three, four

it’s okay to struggle more.

Four, three, two, one,

but still there’s so much to be done.

Lemon-lime, who cares if I wasted time.

Lemonade, you’re not a lime

No

My neurodivergence

need not be

a self-fulfilling crime.

Meal For One

Friendship served

on a silver platter

meal for one

UGH!

No more frivolous splatters!

You said,

“hope you look out for yourself,

don’t want you out of a job”

But I don’t think

you mean it.

My oh my,

I think you’re full of shit.

It’s almost as if

you want me

to stay

here, forever.

In silver hearts

and plastic starts

I await

your inevitable depart

Longing

for a dandelion friend.

Coming up for air,

once again

giving me the bends.

I wanted it

to be you

I should’ve known

you were too good to be true

Friendship served

on a bronze platter,

another meal for one.

To you,

I’m sure I hardly matter.

Amity over Amnesty

Red rapids and scarlet magic

Run me ragged

Wishes?

absentmindedly granted.

Touch and taste, in your embrace

I’m surrounded

by white escape.

You said

I’m not going anywhere.

You are my priority.

I will not abandon you,

baby girl.

How

How could I ask

For more of a thrill?

Sweet on me,

Sweet on you,

Try as I might,

No sight of that familiar blue.

Tender caress

Moonlit sighs

You and I?

We’ll find our compromise.

Gentle caress,

subtle hairs on your chest

in your arms,

I somehow forget the rest.

Sundays like Tim McGraw,

morning song

whispered

in wholesome solitude

To you, I’m nowhere near small

Thoughtful gestures

Over worn out measures

Would it be too cliche,

to call you a treasure?

Simple delights, homecoming nights

the longest stretch

Maybe one day,

You’ll teach our boys catch?

Amity,

over amnesty.

In you,

I choose trust, fearlessly.

Pausing, Discerning, Unearthing

Pausing

Discerning

Unearthing

Insecurities winning

As the room keeps spinning

No

No

Not for long.

You’re not like him.

You’re not her.

With you,

my trust need not quiver.

Homestead?

Homecoming.

How hardly

I remember anything troubling.

Lilac frames

Sweet absence of games

My spring escape,

Earning my touch

And demanding my gaze.

Homestead eyes

And homecoming highs

Country corners

Remain nearby.

You said

Want to come to the post office,

With me?

Homestead eyes

My homecoming prize

Not a moment

left to criticize

Pausing

Discerning

Unearthing

Intentions?

No longer self-serving.

No longer unnerving.

Only kind

Only reinforcing.

Is this what it means

to just be?

Oh, baby

I’ve already committed

this moment

to memory.

Idle Weights & Lucid States.

I put on my camera earrings today

As if that alone,

Were enough.

I promised myself

I would at least try.

yet here I am, 11:54 am — sitting idly by.

What good is knowing you can,

when one false move, makes it hard to stand?

Idle breaths

linger

in my weighted chest.

pulses unpaced,

lost

in the inescapable race.

Paces ahead, lightyears behind,

if only they knew…

just how much

it occupies my mind.

One foot, no two?

I’m unsure — wrong! — what more I can do.

There is no summit. There is no summit. There is no summit.

Most days, this rings true.

But today, anxiety-fueled procrastination

leaves me woefully unfulfilled,

and restlessly blue.

I trust I am exactly where I’m meant to be.

I put on my camera earrings today,

as if that were enough.

If I just keep going,

maybe one day

I’ll believe I’m enough?