I had plans.
This grown-ass-nearer-to-50yr-old-woman turns petulant child.
I stomp and cry.
Fist raised to the heavens, knees on the ground,
I try to pray but I’m so disappointed.


I try not to take it out on you and hold you responsible.
I try not to see you as everything I want to get away from.

Mask in hand, I try my damnedest to rise higher than your fear.
And I put on my fucking happy face and “pivot” and remain positive in spite of it all.

But I want to positively throat punch you.