Category poems for lola
Cirque du Soleil, but it’s just me trying to take off my bra & tights.
I don’t want to watch the parade; I want to BE the parade!
Sometimes I miss my old friends, especially Whats-Her-Name and that one dude…
Learning to live without isn’t the same as moving on.
Wait, what? You only beat ‘Windwaker’ once? You do know you can read the language of the gods & wear a different outfit the second time right? Ugh, we are SO not friends anymore.
I can make my voice & demeanor project unshakeable confidence when my insides are queasy with doubt or uncertainty. Is this a superpower?
Not sure my manager approves of the “My Only Boss Is Springsteen” sticker I put up in my cubicle…