Apr 22, 2022
Lately, I have become more ratty.
My feelings have no badge of honour
attached. As awful as it sounds
I flung my own kindness away.
No sliding scale of happiness.
On paper we should have degrees;
from a husky late night conversation
all the way to a grope under a tree.
I have no plans to hatch. Measure me
and sieve out the unwanted. It is
green like untouched tripe, tripped
in the playground by your ankle.
Poem 15: #NaPoWriMo 2022
(Wordle, Quordle & Octordle results from 15th April)