Excuse the language but…

I’ve been going through my “Voyage” notebook that I scribbled in when I had cancer, along with lots of other things I stumbled across this poem, I wrote it as a way to release some of the frustration and stress I was experiencing and to consign to words some of the heavier aspects of my life. My spoonful of sugar that helps me deal with these frustrations is putting on music while I’m tidying up etc.

I fucking hate housework

Cleaning a house that never looks clean

Putting away all the things that are seen

Clutter and chaos, aggravates my homeostasis

Makes my blood boil and leaves me frustrated.

I don’t mind the doing, at least not the once.

It’s the over and over that drives me insane.

I clean and declutter; wash all the clothes.

Only to find more mess under my nose.

Sort and order, put it away,

To do it all over the very next day

If only a simple cycle would suffice

I’m going in circles, making things nice.

Nobody notices the things that I do

But if I stop for a day, they all turn blue.

Order from chaos feeds my soul.

Yet housework never leaves me feeling whole.