Sunk Cost Fallacy

Sunk Cost Fallacy

My mother doled out

Idioms and proverbs

Her wisdom to

My little ears

“Don’t cry over spilled milk”

She would say

Clean up the mess

Move on

I understood

You can’t put it back

Humiliation is

Trying to lick it up

Either get more milk

Or if there is none

Drink something else instead

But grown up now

Loss aversion

Fear of waste

These are hard 

Heuristics

To shed

Hating to part

With an investment

In time

Of emotion

Trying to make

Sacrifices

Worthwhile

Yet heeding Mom's words

Would be best

It’s a cup that has tipped

Spilled milk

That has soured

Sunk cost

Water under the bridge

Perhaps you will find

A sweeter liquid

To pour
More refreshing

A thirst that is quenched

Clean it up, fill that cup!
No longer 
Throw good money

After bad

And hey, you were

Lactose intolerant

Anyway

Diminishing Marginal Utility

 Diminishing Marginal Utility

There was a miscalculation 

Of worth

It was a novelty

Not necessity

The cost to my peace?

Far too high

A relationship

Simply not in my budget

Just a product

Just a service

It’s an elastic demand

Not a steady need

It’s an “I can do without”

If the price is too high

A trend

When dying of thirst

You don’t look at the particles

Floating in the water

Care if the color is off

A funky taste goes unnoticed

But once the initial utility

Is met

Then comes the noticing

But you weren’t water

Not something needed to survive

Not a staple in my life

Just a passing fad

Like a fidget spinner

Enthusiasm 

Had to have

In the back of a drawer

Collecting dust on a shelf

The more time

The more distance

I realized that value

Was not sublime

The opportunity cost 

Far too great

Sunk costs

Be damned

No monopoly exists

It’s a free market

The marginal revenue

Fell far below

Marginal costs

Besides

Love should never

Be transactional

A measured amount

 A measured amount

Just so much

And nothing more

A taste, a tease

A promise

Of what’s in store

When consummation

Culmination

Finally occurs

Darling, it's a package deal

Without the love

It was always mid

Without the full expression

Of depth of emotion

It scratched an itch

And nothing more

Met a bit

Of a basic need

But failed to enrapture

A creature comfort?

Just a bit

Never truly

Satisfying

Untangling

 Untangling

Muscles knotted

Thoughts snarled

A defensive tightness 

Down to my bone

Taut like a spring

Wound too tightly

Readiness, wary…

And then the cord broke!

The clenching released

Slack 

A slow loosening

And I

Working through the twists

The turns

Of the mess left

In its wake

Am freed

Good

I'm good

Really, I'm good

Good in a way

I realized I hadn't been

For quite some time

It's the good you feel

After a hard workout

Or when you nailed that shot

Good, like you know

You really know 

That you've got this

The good that comes 

When you are in the groove

The vibe is just right

You are doing you in a way

That only you can

You've thrown off dead weight

Chosen yourself

Made peace with uncertainty

That peace - it's

An energy

A contentment 

In doing the things

That come naturally

Being with the people

With the same understanding

Belonging and being

Thinking and feeling

Falling and rising
A wholeness

A wealth

A withstanding

Yes, I'm good

I truly am

Growth

 I wrote this back in September as I was contemplating ending a long term relationship with an avoidant. I had been evolving and growing into healthy boundaries for quite sometime. Interesting, but expected, when I grew distant he pulled me towards him. Thing is, I had grown too much. 

You don’t want what I want

And maybe that’s alright 

We walk a while together

And fade off into the night

maybe a light will shine out

A friendly door will open wide

I don’t hate you for

Not wanting to

But I need to step inside

You want to live the lonely 

Baby, that’s your choice

But I’m not one for silence 

I need to hear another voice 

Maybe someone will call out

My name on his lips

I don’t hate you for

Not speaking it

But when it calls, I am his 

I see a porch with rockers 

A sunset, a sunrise 

I see a hope for love

That’s spoken out in pride 

I see a place where my heart

Feels right at home 

You don’t want that

And I’m sorry 

This journey is my own 

Seven years now, that’s a long time 

To never settle down 

I feel like I’ve been lost

Making circles on the ground 

The years they have been flying

But joy can still be found 

I love you and I’m sorry 

I’m turning back towards town 

By and by we’ve walked along 

Somewhere I lost my map  

Let you chose the way 

And you led me

Going nowhere, so fast 

This road is long and empty

You rarely hold my hand 

It looks so bleak and changeless 

And now I understand —that 

Somewhere I laid my dreams down

Somewhere I lost me, too

Left behind in the distance 

So I’m turning myself around 

I’m turning myself around

I’m turning myself around 

So long, so long, so long 

You can go your own way

Honey, I’ll go mine

Thank you for your time, love

Good bye now, good bye 

Thoughts on birdsong

Looked up today

Heard the honking

Saw the familiar V

A flock of geese 

Flying overhead it

Transported me 

A child laying in bed

Early moments of a grey dawn

Hearing the geese 

Calling to each other 

The comfort, the wonder 

Where were they going? 

Watching them, their

Familiar formation

Easy switch offs

Later my mother explaining 

Me, the child absorbing 

Year after year, experiencing 

The same moment

Finding peace in regularity 

Recognizing 

With a warm joy 

Filling my heart 

Kinship with the younger me 

How many flights 

How many moments of wonder?

Murmurations of starlings 

Awestruck my eyes locked to 

Serpentine dances across the sky

Beauty and community 

Capturing my thoughts 

The privilege of being part 

Of the audience 

For such grand displays 

Flash forward, laying in my bed 

On a Florida twilight

The smell of jasmine 

The call of whippoorwills

Contentment enveloping me 

Babies sleeping in their beds

Husband warm beside me 

The world and its rhythms 

Again, linking souls with mine 

Time skips to 

Ohio predawn spring

Nesting birdsongs

I listen from my quiet house

So satisfied to be a part of this world 

And in the now 

Which shall become my past 

Exultation as the starlings landed in my trees! 

A thousand included me in the midst of their conversation!

Though time flies like the birds 

The husband has passed and the children grown

The memories of the moments live 

The birds still call to each other 

And I still connect 

With them and

To all of the ages of me 

Who have thrilled

In this rapport 

We still do 

We will