She says to me, “but you have been yelling at me all day!”
She is in tears in a crumbled ball on the freshly vacuumed rug.
But I haven’t been yelling at her all day. Yes, in that moment I did yell. Her whining of not being able to get dressed on her own was more than I could handle at that moment. I yelled. I called out her age. But I hadn’t been yelling at her all day. That was fact.
She said I had been yelling at her all day. That was her truth.
confessions are self-serving
Life somehow is chasing rainbows with a stranger; with that, you'll never be lonely.
With a Challenger-deep Sentiments
Words are beautiful beyond meanings
Novelist, Poet, Wordsmith
weird alien 👽
the literary asylum
Understanding someone’s way with words isn’t as simple as you think.
Talk Books. Drink Coffee.
WITHIN ARE PIECES OF ME
Poetry from an English Hart
.......is writing
Lucidly in shadows. Poetry from a hand that writes misty.
Occasional Musing
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
Because poetry. And petals.
thoughtsgather 