OCD.
Type A.
Ever-chasing that good, better, best, as the 1st grade nun at Holy Family taught me.
A cherished friend once said I had to be the best,
in all that I did,
even at being the worst.
Her name is Jess,
and she is my friend.
She's bloody brilliant,
I must say.
Also, and unfortunately for me, correct.
Failure never an option,
can be a golden blessing.
And a prison with gilded bars...a pretty, exotic bird trapped in a claustrophobic, rental apartment with cheap particle -board kitchen cabinets, and fake bathroom-fitter stick-ons, instead of a beautiful tile redesign.
Forget the damn tiles.
What about a beautiful, rain forest canopy?
Of colors of grandeur,
with no walls at all?
Should I be grateful?
Or feel trapped,
choking on my own
short-fallings?
OCD.
Type A.
YOU ARE READING
Night Mind
Poetry© 2020 - 2023 Written by A. E. F. All Rights Reserved. Unconsciousness rising. First Half of Collection: Haiku tales of nightly experiences. Second Half of Collection: Free-Form, No Rules poetry tales of nightly experiences. Poetry Flash Fiction/No...
