Winter Blues: a poem

Julie S. Paschold
1 min readDec 18, 2021

Jumbled mess of bubbles on my skin

Going through twelve years

of the past in two days

placing too many memories

in three ring binders

brings a desire to throw

the trauma in the trash

*

Fuzzy chin on thigh

Losing my mind

in the stories made up

by another on the screen

Stomach churning over

cheese balls and coffee

I am alone for another weekend

*

Crossing too many things

off my to do list

If they are all done

what is the point

of being alive

*

Look out the window

watch the early setting

of sun over snow not melting

Night drags on too long

Can’t close my eyes soon

enough but sleep

doesn’t come

ears hear ringing

that isn’t there

*

Lay in bed newly made

everything laid out

for the next day

hole in curtain on the wall

but there’s nothing to see

folks just the end

of another long

lonely brain scrunching

wish my mind was better

day.

*

12–12–21

Tansy Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold

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Julie S. Paschold

Author of poetry book Horizons (Atmosphere Press). Queer artist in Nebraska, parent, twin, bipolar, sensory sensitivity, synesthesia, PTSD, MS in Agronomy