Rhythm of a Rhyme

I haven’t written much,
in such a long, long time,
I am not sure that I remember,
how to craft a rhyme.

Is it the rhythm of the words,
that lulls your brain to sleep,
that allows the nonesense that I write,
to not cause you to weep?

It’s like a swaying dance,
a dangle and a dip,
then a twirl around the floor,
being careful not to slip.

The pattern starts to form,
and words slowly start to flow,
it doesn’t have to make much sense,
as by now you surely know.

It’s the music that’s not played,
that lingers in the soul,
words implied, not spoken,
a simple, easy goal.

Tonight I listened to the rhythm,
I danced a little bit,
it’s no great piece of literature,
but a least I didn’t sit,

this
one
out.

© ceenoa

“On this Day” Repost – Size 20

Yeah, you know I love this little “On This Day” thing on FB, and today it gave me this one from 3 years ago. Here is the link to the original post.  It was great to read some of the nice comments left, and downright weird to read my responses – sometimes I just don’t feel that I type like me!.

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So yes, I’m size 20 – an incontrovertible fact,
I’m way past cuddly and curvy, so let’s just call me fat.

“She must be greedy and lazy, to let herself get to that size”,
they speak without understanding, one day they may realise.

It’s so much more than just eating – this chaos that lives in my brain,
compounded of joyful memories, and bottomless buckets of pain.

The food is only a symptom, of things I cannot control,
for though I am shattered and broken, once I was boundlessly whole.

I know it is not the real answer, to things that go “bump in the night”
but just for those few tiny moments, food makes some of it right.

I’ve searched for other solutions, but to food I keep coming back,
so look deeper than just my surface – my pain is displayed in my fat.

© ceenoa