why is it so hard to breathe

I can’t breathe

I try to draw air into my lungs

nothing happens no air no air

my lungs are locked frozen

you used up my share of air

with your angry sizzling words

anger has sucked the oxygen

right out of this room

this is wrong so wrong

please be quiet please

please let me breathe

I gasp and gasp and gasp

The questions begin.

What is wrong with you?

Why are you so upset?

What the f— did I do?

my tears are flowing

no shortage of water

wrapping my arms

so tight around myself

I almost feel my ribs crack

I am having a panic attack

croaks from my throat

the attempt to speak

unlocks my lungs

air roughly forces its way in

it hurts as I choke it back out

broken lungs, broken spirit

satisfied with my answer

secure that it wasn’t your fault

after all, I made you so mad

when I said that

you were smothering me

and I hurt your feelings, so

you knew it wasn’t your fault.

you walk out the front door

drive away from my emotions

air rushes back into the room

as soon as you close the door

but now, but now I’m not sure

if I even want to breathe anymore.

by Jeanne Marie

Google Me No More!


Google sent me a text from its no such place mansion in The Cloud, asking me a stupid question in the middle of night. They asked me if I wanted to update Google Play. They asked me that question at 2:00 a.m., to be exact, and it is far from the first time that Google couldn’t sleep. Well, Google let me think about this…
I was sound asleep.
I don’t play with Google on my cell phone, only on my Android pad.
Texts in the middle of the night mean one thing to me…someone I love is in deep do-do because…
I have a daughter who makes the Hot Mug Shots page at least twice a year.
I have a great-grandson who was born less than 2 weeks ago, promptly turned yellow and we discovered that he fractured his little shoulder during his journey through the birth canal, (8 pounds, 8 ounces).
I have four kids who live in three different states. I have 15 grandkids, ages 4 to age 30, and they live in four different states.
My elderly mother-in-law lives two hours from my house.
My son almost died in a car wreck a little over a year ago.
My sister’s son almost died in a car wreck 7 days ago.
My oldest granddaughter just left after spending two weeks with me because she was in an emotional crisis and Grammy is the family tear wiper.
So Google, where ever you are, do you think I want a false alarm (2:00 a.m. panic me good) text asking me to get up and check out your new games in the middle of the night?
To make it perfectly clear, NO.
How many people actually respond to your a.m. requests?
No, don’t answer, I’m better off not knowing.
NO, I do not want to play with you, especially at 2:00 P.M. NO, I don’t want to wake up from my dream of a White Christmas 30 years ago in New England.
You have invaded my boundaries and abused the privilege of knowing my unlisted phone number.
I would notify you of my desire to be left alone when I am sleeping, but since you live in the no such place mansion in The Cloud, I don’t know even know how to get in touch with you, although obviously, you know how to get in touch with me.
My Cloud wants to talk to your Cloud. I’m sure you have his number.