stop being a drama queen
I was burning up with fever
wondering if my dendrites were on fire
would my brain ever be the saI was burning up with fever
wondering if my dendrites were on fire
would my brain ever be the same?
would my muse escape this inferno?
would my imagination still be intact?
If not, would I rather die?
My cat Willie climbed up next to me.
He whispered this in my ear
“Stop being a drama queen and get me food.”
That brought things back into perspective.
If I died, who would feed Willie?
From that moment on I decided to live.me?
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