soup mix

the meds cut the noise..
i hear my voice
my fear calming me
I asked a woman to sit
upon my lap and she did
we are both broken
in different ways
she is not my common-law
woman

there are rules of good behaviour
and ways to try to be
i pushed my sqealing
cart uncaring
and lived ragged and wild

what was the politeness for
when i was a terror
soothing now
the house in its space
intimidating me alone
i feel my size
in relative fashion
i want to smell clean
i want to be quiet
orderly and methodical
in its upkeep

down to the soups now
how i resented making
it at times
but its a feast
to an evening shift
worker

i am beginning to see
beyond the reflection
in the mirror
i am beginning to feel
me amongst them
and its favorable