Sitting with a complex set of feelings, I wish that I could WAIVE the duty and sense of responsibility that got me here. But I can’t do that without an OVERT repudiation of myself. It’s a part of me to be a caretaker, to care, to love. But I don’t want to be a member of the special group, a card-carrying member of the COVEN of self-sacrificing sisters. This is hard, I whine. I don’t like it, I shout. I wish this were, instead, a subplot in my life’s NOVEL rather than the central plot trajectory for the foreseeable future.

Georg’ann

Even in sleep I move toward
LIGHT. Head angles just so
brightness from the street lamp
comes through crack in curtain.
Unnecessarily intense beam
direct on my eyelids, I wake.
Not a night when turning away
will return me to slumber.
Sleepy thoughts murmur.

Remember other streetlights,
porch lights. Beacons in darkness.
That time she decided
I was to BLAME. Shoved me out.
Warm, misty air formed halos
around each bulb, gentle orbs.
Guardian angels guiding my path.
Stirs feeling from many a NOVEL.

Heather