I make quite a stew sometimes.

It’s my specialty, actually. 😉

A brew of frets and fears,

A broth of turmoil and tears,

Seasoned with wonderings,

Sprinkled with weighty ponderings,

Like:

Who am I 

And why am I here?

What does this person really think?

Did they mean that this way?

Or have I inserted the wrong interpretation again?

Did I alienate,

Over-pontificate?

Are they still there?

Do they still care

Or have they dismissed me?

Is my heart better if they don’t,

Or can it withstand if they do?

I fill myself to the brim,

Grow thick with the stuff, 

And sicken myself deep within.

You’d think I’d learn to stop

Cooking and partaking,

Bubbling and troubling,

Yet, I find myself here consuming it all,

Again and again…

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