T.W.I.T.
No, life's not going right;
But, I'm doing alright.
There is a thin divide:
It makes sense in my mind.
I know I'm still aligned;
I'm receiving all my lines.
Although, the script is getting rough,
I might need to start making stuff up.
Perhaps improv will heal me:
Help me think more clearly.
Learn to redirect in real-time:
Ad lib silver linings.
Try to find the difference,
between toxic positivity and being optimistic;
Start sharing a few thoughts;
learn how to brush stuff off.
Try to take a break,
maybe gain a little weight.
Start working on my figure:
Learn to love the one within my mirror.
Call myself a T.W.I.T.,
then acronym it out:
Trophy Wife In Training
(T.H.I.T. if you're a male).
Focus on my progress:
Chase good diet and exercise.
Line up my next home:
A bed to call my own.
Return to that which I've created,
maybe try to get some published.
Sell off a song or two,
to save up for grad school.
Find a brand new job:
Last one was a fraud.
I guess that's the price to pay,
for doping on the daily.
Relishing release from rehab:
Cutting class and failing friendships.
Loathing this legal Limbo,
yet accepting it as my karma.
Journaling, Music, Religion, and Reflections
