A Woman's Plight, Alex (An Ideal)

Dear Alex,

Candid Corvid Productions

“You know that there’s no me comin’ back to you, now that I’ve caught trace of my ideal.

Problem is, apparently my ideal is enshrouded in silence.

That’s how I seem to keep picken’ and persuin’ them

But I think that maybe there has been a method to my madness, after all.

Maybe, long ago, my love and I were separated by such a spell.

And ever since then, I keep pausing and waiting, to see if he will emerge through a man who matches his energy.”

Stream of Thought

Missing My First Day Of ReTrainimg

Candid Corvid Productions

“I must have been pushing Herculean adrenaline all day yesterday into today’s deep early morning.

My arms, hands, limbs, neck, and spine hurt in ways I bet no one can compare with due to the ever-lingering effects of the accident.

It’s like when I stretch, I can actually shift my bones along their center planes into expanding their tissue attachments that became coiled tighter and tighter around clustered support matrices.

I feel them pushed into and parting down my forearms as I flare my palms wide open – as if my hand will project-launch its ulna or radius forward.

Nerve fry burns throughout to a point as if screaming while buzzing in numbness – especially my left side, because that entire half has been stepping up to cover for my right side’s hip blowout and shoulder overworking wreckage, despite its own cervical compressions.

And my cervical torsion lockdown…

Let’s just say it’s hitch-twitching is borderlining upon another migraine.

Meanwhile, lactic acid flooding is pounding against and causing shock in my already bruised psychologg.