I’m supposed to write, but I’m not sure what words are supposed to come out.

 

The spider rebuilds, as we tear down her webs.

We’d leave them be if her bite didn’t hold poison.

 

Maybe I’ve been putting tooo much pressure on myself to get shit done,

Maybe I’ve been holding unrealistic expectations, what?!

Maybe what I really need is to cultivate patience and

 

I think my cat is killing in his sleep

Little movements of his paws and heavy breathing and twitching tail

It’s done now. He crawls into my lap, drifting back into sweet slumber.

 

Before I know it, it will all be different, and then what?

There’s part of me that thinks I’ll be all contented and relaxed once everything is “settled” and we’ve got our accounts and we’ve got the flow of business handled, but that won’t stop me from still living in this body…

 

I’ve been missing my travels. It’s getting damn hot here, and I’ve been craving escape from this dreamy mountain town.

I don’t think places can change me anymore

I know, only I can change me.

I know I must love myself first.

I will, I am, I’m working on it.

 

The spider is persistent, and so am I.