I hope my belly forgives me

for all the rum I put in my ‘tum’

and the wine that was my shrine

the hot cheese in the sun

the speed boat bopping

through the gargantuan waves

the skin diving in choppy waters

and more rum and warm cheese

my insides moaned, “oh please!”

Throwing up over side of the boat

joining the others doing same thing.

Partying in the Bahamas, yes more rum

eating spicy hot conch fritters – oh yum

and conch chowder to fill empty gut.

Running skin diving business,

keeping up with the others

yes, rum in the sun

throwing up over the side.

Couldn’t stand up, pour water bucket

on me to soothe my burning outsides

and insides as well, it was hell.

Flying over to Nassau in friend’s jet

staying up all night gambling

with my friend’s money

him buying me rum all night long

feeding decadent appetites

please, my belly, forgive

my excesses of the past

I never again

will have rum in the sun

and overwarm cheese.

Dear Head,

Before I begin, I would first like to thank you for arriving attached to my neck. I am eternally grateful for your permanence because without it, I would have certainly (accidentally) abandoned you in some random public toilet or equally horrible place.

Head, we have traveled together now for quite some time, and I feel I haven't given you enough credit for all that you do. You have sustained injury upon injury due to Left Feet (they'll be getting a different kind of letter) and their clumsy shortcomings. I will extend apologies for them since they can't seem to get their act together.

On a more personal level, however, I would like you to know that I deeply regret the decision on multiple occasions to bang you into the wall. Quite frankly, I have no explanation . I only hope you will forgive me.

I'm sure you have kept the wild horse incident in your memory banks, and please know that so have I. I promise on my own life that we will never again (ever, ever) end a ride as part of a metal shed.

I also want you to know that I'm working diligently not to blame you for my every downfall and bad characteristic. I understand that while you are largely at fault and most likely the root of every emotional upset I've experienced, you always play some role in their solution. This is still a work in progress, as I'm sure you can understand.

In conclusion, my friend, I mean to say that I cherish your service and loyalty, and it would mean more than I can possibly say if you would accept my deepest regrets for all of the abuse that I have subjected you to thus far (future too).

With honest sincerity,

Me

Stomach,

Sorry for the butterflies that constantly live in you when I was with him.

Sorry for the medicine you had to digest when I was not feeling well.

Thank you for being strong.

Arms,

Sorry for all the needles you had to endure when I was small it was for the good of all.

Sorry for the the apparatus that were stuck in you I know it hurts, they made me cry, made me live with pain for a while, they left marks on you sorry for that, as the saying goes, you'll never knew and enjoy the rainbow if you have not gone thru the storm.

Knees,

Sorry for the scars.

I was clumsy, and had no choice but to fall on the ground with your surface hitting the rough cement.

Heels,

Sorry for forcing you in unnatural way.

I already learned my lesson it won't happen again.

Ankle,

Sorry for all the sprains.

I suffered a lot too.

Eyes,

Sorry for the things you've seen that you shouldn't have.

Sorry for the bitter tears that made you red.

Tear ducts,

Sorry for forcing you to work so hard that you got swollen after all the shedding.

Ears,

For the things you've heard that hurt us so. I'm sorry. Not for you. For them.

Tongue,

For all the taste that went throigh you, sweet, spicy, sour, bitter sorry you were so used.

Sorry for the sores I know it hurts.

Tonsil,

Sorry for abusing you.

For being swollen, and achy.

Heart,

My dear dear heart

Sorry for all the pains you had to endure, I'm sorry I know sometimes you just want to stop. I can feel it, I can feel you wanna give up. Don't. At least not yet.

Sincerely,

Me

PS

HEART, if what I'm feeling is too much ask brain to shut down

Crunch! Slam!

Smack! Bam!

Fingers that type

And write.

That still function 

Even through all interruptions.

You still type

And write.

Type and write.

Type and write.

A constant pattern

Of work and all that matters.

I come to you

With sincerity.

Truly and honestly

I apologize. 

Even now the pain

Regains its power.

Another door

Another window

Another bruise

And yet It happens again.

I move too fast,

Too clumsily

For my fingers to get free.

Then smash!

They are black and blue.

But still you

Type and write

Type and write...

Facial Hair,

Time and time again I cut you down like weeds sprouting in the garden. You deserve better. If it wasn't for life, I would let you be free and grow wild. Unfortunately, work and wife take precedence. I sincerely hope you understand, and don't think me ornery for how I've treated you.

Until tomorrow,

J

There is always a continuous fight and arguments.

Flowing between my dear brain and heart. 

Mostly my heart beats win, occasionally loose.

My brain gets wiser.

My heart gets stronger.

Still I apologise to YOU two.

My two dear Companions.

Advocates and Advisers for this Armageddon,

I create for you every day and night.

AlSO WANT TO BE THANKFUL  FOR ALWAYS LISTENING TO ME AND BATTLING FOR MY CONCIOUSNESS. 

Your 's

Nadya 

I look at you from up on high 

You stand above the others with a permanent smile. 

Your face is hard as a nail, your skin coarse and you have led the march for miles. 

I try to pull the sock upon you but your head its sharp as a knife. 

I want to caress you and to let you know just how bad I feel. To massage you on the inside and on your front side...

I have used you in order to rise above, gain speed and get me to where I dreamed to go. You have rarely let me down - you have always rose to the occasion. 

If I could I would, if I could I would a beautiful lady stand above you and to soften your hardened self. 

If I could free you of the stiffening sense that can sometimes cause pain, I would rub you and feather you to health and to peace. 

You stand among smaller ones and you lead the army into the battles, into wars always victorious with every step. 

I have hurt you, I have put way too much weight upon you and I have had times where I should have worn protection, yet I felt reckless and I acted selfish...but you just kept on keeping on. 

I am sorry, I am sincerely contrite and I am excited, titillated and looking forward to the time when that lady stands above you, licking her lips and moisturizing her hands, her instruments of pleasure...

When I earn it I will allow it - a full body massage with emphasis on you, my hallux. Shame on you if you thought I was referencing my Phallus.

I want to take a moment to apologize profusely for your permanent bruising (especially the left one) as a result of my clumsy stumbling to the bathroom late at night in the dark. It wasn't my fault that I was born with such long legs so you are the perfect doorknob height for these purely unintended bumps. I suppose it is my fault, however, for keeping in shape so that you protrude absent any fat covering. But that's not going to change.

I suppose I should also extend atonement to my fingertips for my constant nail-biting (especially during football games, particularly those where my Chargers blow a fourth-quarter lead like they have four times already this season) and incessant typing. You little guys are tough, indeed. Keep up the good work!

Love,

Me  

Hands. I get it. It must be hella annoying to be you guys. I'm sorry. I know how hard it is to always have some form of cuts on your backs. And I'm sorry that your palms are usually scraped. And I know that the calluses on your fingers make you feel insecure. You are worn out after just 16 years.

But please. I'm begging you to think of how I lovingly moisturize you each morning, keeping you soft and smooth. And I just want you to know all your pain and harm is not in vain, for you help me create beautiful things as I sit and write for hours, as I shuffle through pages and suffer through paper cuts. And I want you to remember the many times you've saved me from falling each time I trip, by hitting the ground before my face does. Like the time I was riding my bike and stupidly decided to attempt riding "no hands". Had I realised how much I needed you to keep me on the bike I'd never have done it.

I'm sorry hands.