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  • There are days when I am not good
    when I shake and bellow.
    when every lost second tears at my mortified flesh
    when I push and prod bewildered children
    with sleep-filled lashes.

    There are days when I give up
    before even starting
    before even flaring the storm
    I am keening, retreating,
    demanding nothing.
    Just seething, resenting...
    and seethe some more.

    There are days when my voice rankles,
    my wit bites,
    I slice and splice,
    dissect and reject.
    I fill noses with stench
    minds with discomfort
    and hearts I touch not at all.

    There are days when I rollick in mud
    drown my sunshine
    leave traces of malice
    and pain in young souls.

    There are days when I am not good.

    Not good enough.
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