museums are full of broken things

and it’s called art

but when people fall apart

we are simply



i am a forest fire

a storm that no one wants to dance in

i am a liability

too much for everyone

but i am worth the trouble

until then,

i will disappear into the sun


i am not surprised

that i was again forgotten

i find that i expect this of others

because it happens so frequently

with friends or partners

but the pain of being forgotten

never hurts any less


things that are easily forgotten:

clean laundry in the dryer

clean dishes in the dishwasher

mail in the mailbox

what time the meeting starts



nursing is the most beautiful of all arts

years of dedication and preparation

to care for a living body,

a beating heart,

a canvas very much alive


she is extraordinary

i become breathless every time she speaks

each word filled with honey

her voice angelic

i become speechless every time she moves

each curve perfectly designed

her body magnificent

i am entranced in her presence


she demands attention

to be seen, heard, known

she unknowingly draws every eye in the room

her existence the entire focus

she is blind to her own power

i have succumbed, i will not resist

how lucky i am to know her

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