Chocolatey Nonsense

(We wrote from a fabulous Ellen Bass poem in class today called French Chocolates. We used, “May they just keep their mouths shut” as our jumpoff line)

Lately, the mouths that need shutting are coming from inside the house.

They are the mouths of my very own psyche, the ones that shout:

You’re not doing enough.
You’re just pretending.
You’ve got everyone fooled.
Do you even know how to love?
You’ll be alone forever, so you better start planning for that.

May they keep their mouths shut.

I know these things aren’t true. Or aren’t the whole truth. But are they not not true?

“What will become of me?” I asked the tarot reader in tears yesterday.
And then I was immediately embarrassed and laughed at myself.
“Dramatic much?” I joked.
But it was also a serious question.

When friends talk about retirement, a panic rises in me. I will likely never retire, so it’s a good thing I love this work.

What was the prompt?

Oh right.

May all the voices in my head keep their mouths shut.

May they find a better job. May they pick up a hobby. May they do one of those Tibetan mandala paintings that take forever to make and then get swept away.

Maybe I need to meditate.
Maybe I need to collaborate.
Maybe I need to dance.

Does everyone have these voices that need to shut the fuck up?

Can we put them on an island where they can knit scarves for seagulls and eat coconuts?

Can we feed them French chocolates so their mouths are too full and we can no longer hear their chocolatey nonsense?