“Blisters of Decision”

blisters on my writing hand
at the end of the day
when work is done, and I
am free
willing suffering, no complaint
circumstances are but my creation
as every one before me
dedication to craft, yet I
sought more
each night, my tired fingers
grasp pen and paper
once my chosen obligations
are tended
leftovers in the fridge
son sent to slumber
husband smiling into his glass
and I may become
the self that can only be
when she is alone

© M. Black, 2016 All rights reserved.


One thought on ““Blisters of Decision”

  1. Oh ye word warrior
    Gripping your pensword so tightly your fingers ache
    You’ll barely make it off first battle, page one,
    Let alone to the truce of the war


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