For several years now– too many to count, although it wouldn’t be hard to do, I’ve been silently beating up on myself for not writing. I’ve moved forward in fits and spurts, but they have mostly gone unacknowledged by myself– and somehow I have managed to continue to give myself the consistent message: YOU ARE …
moving forward is hard. and standing in one place feels like I’m being shoved backwards. there are days when I want to stay in bed with my head under the covers. or I wish I were my cat. and my strength feels buried under too many layers to access. and it’s easier to acknowledge other …
from the first moment i saw you, i knew you were indelibly mine.
your mesmerizing performance leaves me wishing the world was a stage.
thanks for allowing the space between us to be constantly fluid.
snuggled up to sleep next to you or not– always I feel your presence.
there is this sense of empty as I watch them go… then I remember