I saw your name
In my email box
My heart felt fear
And my stomach rose
About to come out of my body
My head spun
Inside I cried
“No, no”
A migraine sets in
You are as cold as ice
To a blind person
From your ivory tower
You dish out your “benevolence”
I wither
A crumbling wreck
Somehow you make me feel dirty
From your position of power
You, the priest
pay a visit to the blind wilderness: https://blindwilderness.wordpress.com/
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
