I called the disorder by its name,
and it stopped, dead in its tracks,
jerked its hand from the crooked heart and
tried to wipe me off its face,
said it’d just go back to bed,
but I told it to
leave.
Slowly sweeping it with the crumbs out the door,
I imagine all the regrowth I’ve in store,
for neither disorder nor death do I need.
I took his collar off and set me free.
Alphabet Ravine 
Great writing but a sad poem.
I met you at Jason’s blog party. If you need any blogging tips, maybe you can check out my blog. That’s what I write about. I also have blog parties like Jason I blog over at https://mostlyblogging.com.
Janice
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Thank you! I had to work at the original material of this poem to get the sad mood in, so I’m happy to hear you call it sad. 🙂
I’ve checked out your blog- what a helpful topic. I will be coming back by!
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