Flowers crunchy, wilting now, Leafless trees whip in the wind, Cold, cold winter coming. Finger curled, It will not straighten, How does hand cramp affect you? It makes me want to cut off, The hand that brings me pain, But the pain will move.
Later later later, Tomorrow will be fine Thinking that, for now, there isn’t time Pushing away the opportunities that are coming For a distant time when theoretically I’ll be able to deal with it all.
Moving houses, I have no memory of packing things to take, Into boxes and bags, Flung into the trailer dad tows behind the car, Only the spiderwebs of memories, Not wanting to leave the family home, Not wanting to trespass into Nanna’s own.