Me, Marsha Marie

  Passing Glances  by Marsha Marie scared hallow faces rhythm ting ting as the tube tinkers a somber tune on the IV pole with flowered blue petals keeping us steady war heroes in the hall, sharing their past i asked are you sharing old war stories ?  the man shows pic of his bone on his phone  "yes, just making them up as we go" (he chuckles) keith - the rolling wizard.  a smile across his face.  "hi, hope you're just here for a headache!" you can hear him rolling down the hall  with the sound of  a glass IV bottle ......i think, what year am I stuck in?  the nurses and assistants are the real unsung heroes i get that now pats on my shoulder , a tissue to wipe the tears  "Do you want a hug?"   .....yes, please!

  Dear Diary,  Today's writing prompt was for me to list out everything that annoys me throughout a typical day. That sounds so negative, so instead, I want to list out some things that I really love about a typical day.  I love seeing my daughter in the morning. She is in her 30's and still comes to my room each day to give me a hug and tells me that she loves me. What could be better than this, right!? I love how everyone in my family plays with our cat, Simon each day. Simon is such a personality, that I cannot imagine our home without him. And I am sure everyone else feels the same. What a spoiled baby he is! I love my one glass of Pepsi with ice in the mornings. I only allow myself to have one a day, so this morning-Pepsi is a special treat for me. Sometimes, I want more, but have learned to control it. 😂 I love my bathroom. Yeah, you heard me right---my bathroom. Not sure what the psyche is on that, but I really love my own personal bathroom and a hot shower. Really tho

  I Hate Cancer  by Marsha Marie  If ever there were a topic that was easy to write about, it would be how much I hate having cancer. Diagnosed in November of 2023, my life took a drastic change in direction. "Leukemia," they told me. "You will die if you do not start treatment immediately; two months tops."  I felt like my world had ended. The next few months were a long blur of tears, fear and vomiting.  Yes, my hair fell out. I felt like everyday could possibly be my last.  Then an option was given to me. I could get a stem-cell transplant and get an 80% survival rate. So my two choices were try to survive or die. I chose to try.  So, in March of 2024, I watched donated tiny stem-cell particles stream down a tube and into my arm. (You could actually see them when you put a light on it. Quite cool when you think about it.)  Since the diagnosis, I have lost about 70 pounds, and have taken what feels like thousands of pills. Mood swings are up and down with the bree

  Liar's Song by Marsha Marie dig deeper bury them away it does no good       to be on display gaze down  ignore me please shut the door      to hide my screams can i tell you that i love you?  can i tell you that i care?  no matter it doesn't matter      i can never be there my cries for you what a liar they are  to tell me true love is just within reach but in truth be so far  can i tell you that i love you?  can i tell you that i care?  no matter it doesn't matter      i can never be there

  The Taboo Kiss by Marsha Marie The night is bitter cold. Our shifts started at 11 pm, and the thought of seeing him again was so exciting. We meet up for class as usual and begin chatting. Eighteen years my junior, and all of his attention is on me.  Tonight he wants to go for a walk.  "Let’s go to Fatima Jinnah Park. We can take your car.”  “Sounds great. Let’s go.” The park is just down the road; so not a long drive at all. We park the car and head into the dark mini-forest. My heels clicking in the crisp air. We talk about random things. He is young and not very experienced in life. I already have two marriages and three children. The most unusual of a pairing.  His English is broken but sweet. We discuss life and things about our different cultures. I am an American and he is Pakistani.  The fog from our faces does not bother us at all. Yes, there are others walking around the park, but we don’t mind. They look like couples too, and we just look the other way and continue ou

The Knock  by Marsha Marie I hear a knock at the door.  I roll my eyes. Another solicitor, I thought. I gently look thru the peephole and see no one there.  But I hear a whisper.  Open. Open.  Who are you? I say. I need nothing today.  Open. Open. The whisper increases.  Look inside and you will know who I am.   No. No. I want nothing today. ....Well, maybe just a touch. Just a feeling of warmth against my body. But you cannot. I cannot.  Open. Open. The whisper snickers. You invited me over. Why else would I have come? I wonder who I so unknowingly beckoned? Is it my lover that I have been longing for? Open. Open and find out.  I stretch out my hand and turn the nob. My heart is racing. I open the door just enough to peek. His scent rushes in as a whirl and envelops me, and I begin to fall.  Deeper and deeper. A sensual purple dances around me. The whisper booms thru my body and my heart saying: I am here. I love you. I will never leave you again.