if doughnuts were cigarettes.

If doughnuts were cigarettes I would need a hypnotist.

Mama stress manifests, ebbs and flows, we all have our crutches.

Open mouthed stares at wrestling matches over forks

I slam down the lid on the watched pot of frustration.

A dozen of your finest, please.

Zen practice for the harried, dissipation at its finest.

Rather than fold in on myself, artificial comfort.

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4 thoughts on “if doughnuts were cigarettes.

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