Scheduled
I sketched my life
with bold strokes of ambition—
my mind dancing,
my heart skipping like a tambourine.

I saw myself
advocating, defending—
a smile stitched on courtroom wins,
my name echoing through channels,
my praise in every mouth.
I daydreamed,
I built bliss in a vision
I thought was mine.

But my aim was narrow.
He, in wisdom, drew another path—
a path where mud clings,
where stains speak,
where pain walks beside me.

Like a painter
He brushed a new canvas
and smiled,
“Perfect for my daughter.”

Now, in the path He destined,
I care—
holding lives on fragile lines.
I teach,
I advocate for health.
I cry,
offering comfort,
living empathy.

Now, it’s no longer fantasy—
but His will done.
And in this,
I’ve found true bliss—
rising each day
to walk this chosen road.

In Him,
I see the masterpiece.
Perfect.

Forty three patients, forty three lives, all counting on me under a license thats mine,
There's medicine to pass and treatments to be done, I'm trying to be fast but I am only one,
Her blood pressures low but his blood pressure is high, bed 36 is in so much pain now that they've begun to cry,
I don't mean to be so in and out, I want to take my time and ease your doubts,
a listening ear,
a reassuring touch,
But its hard to manage when corporate doesn't care about patient care so much,
To me you are person, to them you are dollar signs, I want to hear about the life you've lived but if I don't chart we'll be fined,
I'm trying so hard to get everything done, I want to be there for you,
But if I fall behind on this paperwork, they'll just replace me with someone new.
So I'll brush your hair and bring your favorite snack, after I pass all these pills I'll try to come back,
I want to take the time to listen to you
While I can't chat for 45 minutes, even when I'd really like to, I remember which pudding you prefer your medicine in, and your sons and daughters names too
I know what time you'll likely be in bed, and the time you'd like to get dressed, I know it's not enough, and I know you get depressed,
But I hope you can feel I care for you

You still look like you, minus the fire
With your non-skid socks
Arms attached to barb wires

A robe drenched in dead skin
Eyes sunkin in
Slept for a year, but still tired

When you speak, it's eratic
Others hear it as static
I always know what you mean

You long to go home
Where you weren't so alone
But it's disappeared it would seem

For now, they still visit
But they'll drift and won't miss it
As it's all too depressing to see

You will disappear
No one gets better here
The next stop is eternity

I'm surfing, along the coastline.
The waves pulling me in, my strength pushing me out.
Music in one ear, shouting in the other.
I breathe, a breath of salty air. It settles in my lungs and I choke.
Sometimes the salt can clear the alveoli and make it easier to breathe,
But not today.

Today the air is heavy. Clouds pour down single droplets but when altogether, it is a storm. The wind howls, burning my ears. Whispering that it's all too much.

I crave a fall into the ocean, pulled out to sea. It's become too much and I'm drowning.
But I'm not drowning. I float. I float with tears mixing into the salty water. I can feel the undercurrent begging me to come down to it so it can pin me down to the sea bed where I can hold my last breath and breath again.
But it's not breathing it's drowning and the thought makes me thrash around and I panic.
So instead, I panic on top of the water, thrashing and jerking around desperately trying not to drown.

The skies will become clear again. The stormy skies will reveal the blue which is always there. The stars are still shining underneath the despairing clouds. They are always there, just hidden at times.

All I have to do is breathe with the waves and stay afloat till the storm goes away.