a grumpy gift: A Rescue Plan for the Woman who Lays in Bed Whining — I am a poet! I am. I am. I am a poet, I reaffirmed, ashamed.

Tyra would not get out of bed on her thirtieth birthday or let me celebrate with her in any way although she left the door open so I could let myself in she tucked the blankets into all her edges including her feet, with only her face bare stubborn and grimacing I tried to untuck […]

via A Rescue Plan for the Woman who Lays in Bed Whining — I am a poet! I am. I am. I am a poet, I reaffirmed, ashamed.

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