Payment

I was told I would end up paying. And I did. Big fucking surprise. There are always only a handful of folks willing to stick up their heads like whack-a-moles and eventually, no matter how skilled, they get thumped.

I wish I could withdraw the bounty I offered up – well – used as a shield really… or evidence. I wish I could eat those words. Keep them safe from prying puerile eyes and tongues inclined to repetition. Safe from reinterpretation.

All I’ve done is create more work at a time when my body is failing me physically.

Mama is tired. And as we all know… fatigue leads to mistakes. And as I scribbled on paper and passed to a friend: I can’t keep my defenses up. So fallible. So flawed.

I sometimes feel like a knight. In service to something larger than me. Desiring to be in service to something larger than me. And beside me, my trusty squire. In service to me and the vision I in turn serve.

Sometimes I am a queen. Not the Queen of Everything, but the Queen of Quite-a-lot. A dame in service with need of a consort with whom I can sojourn.

The wind. Gentle and destructive. Loved and feared.

Being self-reflective can be a dangerous thing.