Be That Girl

May 13

Be That Girl

I have tried to protect the investment I made in the past by selling the soul of my future.  I arrived self-possessed, a winning girl, but I slid the self from the scene leaving me simply possessed.  I gained everything then lost it a piece at a time starting with the parts nearest my heart.  I must draw the shards together once more and mend this lovely crystal. The art of living is insured by my action not by grasping at slivers in terror of what slips from my fingers.  I am what I have inviolate and all else comes to fruition when I am pleased; when I am myself.   

Be aware which pens are poison

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SOOT

I diligently work to remove the soot.

The residue from the last time I tried to hot wire my brain

When I attempted the short circuit of my safety-thinking

I caught my life on fire and flames, though brief, were spectacular.

Electric fires are very jarring

The burning insulation toxic

It leaves bare, stuttering lines crossing and recrossing

My stable base, the methods I once used to keep sane, is shot

All because I wanted to go joyriding in my thoughts

Suspended reality sounds so good but always bursts into flame

Leaving me with soot removal as a hobby

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

Reguess

May 2

Reguess

When in my sarcasm I suggested that you ‘guess again’, I realized that you were in fact guessing, guessing about everything, guessing in order to create a process of elimination, a tool on which I now recognize you entirely depend.  Guessing as a way of life is a tragedy.  I’m not saying that trying to know every last thing in the world is an acceptable alternate goal, but to reach an adult age and not even be able to work your way up to a possible hunch is scary, scarier than even my sarcasm, which at this moment seems interminable, but I’m sure you guessed that.

Make a list of your favorite fingers

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ON COMING

Anticipation of the approaching traffic consumes.

The tiny spec grows and develops into the arriving vehicle

50 miles per and the rapid succession of the coming

And those leaving eats quickly at my heart.

The pain seers me

Why are these who travel from the direction of my destination

Passing me by?

For miles and miles they appear to be greeters

The breeze created by their passing chaps my face

And questions my goals

How can so many abandon my objective?

But flee they do.

My hunger does not diminish

And I press on

Of course if we all went this way, we might tip the globe

Maybe that’s what they fear.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault