Under my thumb


I spit on you

I cut you

I make you small

I curse the ground

You walk on

I prayed that I

Never wanted to

become you, what

happens,I am now

The last anger man

Sitting in the

Rocking chair

Swatting flies



Escaped,& my

nest became

the pain

All for the sake

Of complaining

That insatiable

Rush again and

again,chasing after

It like a dog who’s

house is being passed

By the only truck

That comes down the

Street once a week

To pick up, what else

the garbage

As dust

the ashes

For I am the next

Generation of worms

These progressive lenses

Are killing me

My eyes are so screwed up

It’s driving me crazy

This last hit shook me

to the core

One right after the


It’s slowly coming out of

Me as hard as I try

They want more

The Sheldon Perspective


9 thoughts on “Under my thumb

  1. Progressive lenses ARE very hard to deal with. I was born so bad off but being born that way; I didn’t notice until others did. My first pair of glasses only had to correct 2 different problems but as each problem got worse and a 3rd problem emerged, it was so gradual I didn’t notice MUCH but then the 4th problem and the cataract correction to both eyes and now; although I see better, I see different. AND I’M GOING INSANE!

    Well I have a personal need to explain the insanity with something other than just plain booze. No romance in JUST being a drunk.

    Now let’s talk about hearing and how much it hurts to move and walk. That should take us to suppertime. We’ll do insomnia and voices tomorrow. ~~dru~~

    ps: i really don’t have voices…just myself yelling at myself all the time in my head. Good think I’m going deaf cuz I’d never hear a thing if i could hear.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Some of us don’t talk about our personal battle, because nobody gives two shits when we speak.

      Others have ears willing to listen to them. Those of us who don’t remain silent and find pleasant distractions.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Raw and jarring. I loved what you said about being the next generation of worms. When you think about it, down in the dirt, what else do we become but squirming maggots .. in their belly we go.


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