Nandy in a Nutshell

life is recursive at times

and that's nice.

a routine can feel

like a worn blanket

comforting and essential.

but sometimes the blanket wears out

holes appear.

people come in whilst you try to sleep.

they say "fix your blanket; it has holes"

they stick their fingers through the gaps

cold and electric

shocking you awake

and you say "yes, i'll fix the blanket

but let me sleep first"

for you know that sleep-deprived and crabby fingers

create more holes

but the people don't stop

they think because you are asleep that you will forget

but how can you forget

when it is your blanket in the first place

how can you forget 

when you're the one who feels any drafts 

let in by the traitorous apertures

sometimes, it gets hot under the blanket, okay?

sometimes, i need the holes

to let in the breeze of change

they say variety is the spice of life

but you think that the only right spices 

are those that complement your basic flavors

fine

the dish tastes better if the cooks all agree

but the dish tastes better with a chef's personal touch

i said i'll do what needs to be done

i said when i'll do it

i can even tell you how

but please

give me my space and time

don't prod me

for i do my best

when not followed by the sharp ghosts of your words

when clear-headed and free from the sharp metallic screech of your repeated commands

which, the first time sound like a delicate chime

and now sound like a knife against steel

i do my best

when calm and not harried

when not badgered, hounded, chivied, or nagged

when i'm

     not

          this

               annoyed