I
wore my insanity
like
a proud accessory,
something
to flaunt.
It
guarded me from reality.
It
shielded me from responsibility.
The
words “I can’t help it,”
came
so easily.
They
were always on my lips.
Pain
and circumstances were real,
but
I allowed them to live me.
Snaking
through another day of
disillusion,
one excuse at a time.
I
accepted who I was,
I
was not proud of it.
Lying
on my bed of sand
sinking
deeper into my madness.
I
learned to use my shiny
jewel
like a crown of glory.
Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.
Website /https://annchristinetabaka.com/
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