Lack of Oxygen…

The most frequent question doctors have asked me is do I fall asleep after meals or other times. I don’t as my neurological disease won’t permit it. I have noticed tiny slips of concentration, however, and forgetting a thought that I need to continue whatever I am writing.

Yesterday, I almost left a store without paying for my groceries. It was a horrible feeling as a security person approached a reminded me. I don’t want to be thought of as a criminal.

It is hard sometimes in conversation, I forget what I want to say. Overall, these are small things, but each is frustrating.

My so-called editor, CT Meek, tried to leave a message on here last week. He claims he bought the only copy of my poetry collection. He is a liar. I know it was bought in several countries. Regardless, he owes me payment even if only one copy had sold. I don’t think he knows what honesty is, and I regret respecting the person, Rose Drew, who influenced me in connecting with Meek. That certainly does not describe him. He is harsh, unreasonable and has a questionable relationship with honesty, and, therefore, poetry.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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