in my quest to quell the apathy;

i am a writer who seldom writes 

impaired instead, by despondency 

no one warns you not to build a home in misery

that solitude, at times, doesn't make any sense

knowing people do not suffer quietly

we do not forget it, we ignore it 

but i forgive you, for me 

and in my quest to quell the apathy 

i'll pick up another bottle of wine

on a weeknight. 

Dashes of February

(a little haul from target's closing sale.)

 (sunny little bedroom spot for writing.) 

 (toby's guilty 'mom i ate your donut, please don't be mad' face.)

(pull-apart pizza bread, yum!)