at the end of the year
i decided to do the 'right' thing.
go clean, remain standing tall, and endure.
good hopes in mind,
certainly of the healing kind.

as usual, not one or two,
but 3 or 4 slammed in my face,
catching a finger along the the way.

now that i direly need the help,
i ruined it. me and my big fucking mouth.

get here soon, year of the wood sheep.
my natal year, you can only bring me prosperity
and the draw of the luck on my side.
peacefulness.

maybe wood--although i'm an earth sheep--
i'll take peaceful stubbornness of wood
over these past three years of noisy and turmoil dragons,
tumultuous black snakes in the grass, and spastic wild, running horses.

february 7, i cannot wait.
and please make me whole and healed again.