A is for alive

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
racked by sobs she wobbles and falls;
her shoulder screams again and again
Is there no end to Humpty's pain?

Humpty Dumpty smashed on the street
her sickly yolk oozes over her feet;
no horses or soldiers come to her aid
Humpty feels alone and afraid.

Humpty Dumpty dusts down her dress
all this emotion has made quite a mess;
Humpty's toughness has made her weak
in order to mend she must learn how to speak.

D looked at me as I read my poem out loud and suggested that I do something outside of my comfort zone. Outside of my jumpers-folded-and stacked-according-to-colour comfort zone. And definitely a good couple of feet away from the underwear-folded-and-organised-according-to-type and-colour comfort zone.

So here we are. Me and my pain. My pain and I. Italy. Florence to be exact. I wanted my pain to stay at home but she refused. Stubborn swine like her sometime mistress. I suppose I should be grateful that I am here at all; she nearly refused to let me come.

I suppose I should introduce you to Dolores. The root of her name is embedded in pain and if I'm patient, I can learn from her. Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim.

A is for alive because that's how Florence makes me feel. Breaking the mould for the first time in a long time, Dolores and I are going to try and recuperate a little and take some time to try and understand one another better. We thought we would keep a journal along the way to chart our progress. We'll let you know how we get on.

Katy

(A is for All I want - Jehro (Hotel Costes 9))