Norman’s Normal

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As the tears become pools for my eyes to swim,mamma where are you when I needed you the most,3 feet under in case in concert in a mausoleum that I only visited twice,you always had style even in death,as the tears become stagnant waters now the blood in my veins is cool aid,all I see are the backs of people as each one turns and walks away,this is what I’m left with,this is my blood,i have what I have because I took the time to make a family before it was to late,my extended family are books on a shelf gathering dust,drugs, alcohol and a whole lot of pain was a child who grew to be dysfunctional, all are the dust of my wind, my so cold new normal,I’m still alive,there’s still room for improvement,at 63,I can still invent,faith and what I believe to be,my tears became my new normal

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9 thoughts on “Norman’s Normal

  1. Wow, so clear. Your pieces always resonate with me.

    “this is what I’m left with,this is my blood,i have what I have because I took the time to make a family before it was to late, my extended family are books on a shelf gathering dust,drugs, alcohol and a whole lot of pain was a child who grew to be dysfunctional, all are the dust of my wind, my so cold new normal,”

    Ah, dear Sheldon. I really like the books on a shelf imagery. I’m beginning to understand that our dysfunction is a shared trait that most try to hide. Artsy folks are perpetual optimists (I am one) searching for normal perfection that may actually be unattainable. That is our flaw, that we constantly search. The success is that, “i have what I have because I took the time to make a family before it was to late,” You are a success Sheldon, but being artsy shields us from ever seeing it.

    A depressed and anxious comrade in dysfunction,
    Amanuensis

    Liked by 2 people

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