It’s Time to Remove My Bra

It’s Time to Remove My Bra
It is merely the second day of the week, and the bed has engulfed my body. My body screams from symptoms of stress while silently praying for an immediate detox. Personal space is invaded daily with the understanding that I am simply another link in a very long chain. This game will never change.
As the bed settles just a little more, my mind races across goals that should be set and lists that should be written. Tea has been scheduled and my eyes have settled on a new jumper that shall make its debut tomorrow. The grandmother look simply doesn’t suit me and the quest to break out of the nursing home look has been ignited. Where am I going to? Do I like the things that life is showing me?
Arguments rage on over the Super Bowl halftime show while I still make pennies every hour. There is someone that needs a kind word. There is a hug that should be had, and the wish of a vacation. No one in the world can move me quite like this journey of mine. Rocky? Yes. Conventional? No.
Owls now keep me company and there isn’t a daughter or husband in sight. My existence is still valid. My voice is still clear. Unwavering and firm. Forward shall I go into the great unknown. Wednesday beckons unto me.

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