Posted in New Work, Poetry, Random

Sick Day

Sparkly nails and coffee cups,

a rumpled comforter,

sunlight on my bare skin…

Today feels like fuzzy socks

and comfort food

and not leaving my bed.

I’m sorry, but I don’t think

I’ll make it in today…

Author:

Curating Personal Year 9. Wife and mom of 3. Writer. Zentrovert. Aspiring Engineer. Resident Badass.

2 thoughts on “Sick Day

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