Better Than Me

No one knows how to lift my spirits better than me.Just put me behind the wheel and give me an adventure to embark on.

No one knows how to make my heart flutter better than me. Play me something beautiful, progressions with minors and husky voices and words that sing what I feel.

No one takes care of me better than me. Give me my matchbox flat, flavours to mix in a pot that nourish my belly and my soul.

No one calms me better than me. Make the room quiet and leave me to my own devices.

No one knows me better than me and no one loves me better than me because I’m all I’ve got…

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Later

“I’ll save it for later; when the mood is right and the moment is perfect,” she mused.

The thing about the perfect moment though, it is aluding. It is always just out of reach. The mood, not quite right enough, the moment, not quite perfect enough.

Sometimes, you will find, that you left that perfect mood and perfect moment behind as you put it off for later.

Up in Flames

“I just don’t want to fuel the fire.” He said.

“It’s too late…” She thought to herself. She dared not say it out loud.

“What happens if we let the fire burn? There’ll be no way out!” He mused.

“We might as well let it all go up in flames and burn to the ground..” She thought it, but again, dared not say it.

She’d survived many fires before…

Writing

I have notebooks everywhere. Loose pieces of paper next to the bed, on the kitchen counter, in the bookshelves, inside drawers, all of them, pleading for my handwriting. They are begging for my ink to bleed on them. “Write anything!” They implore. And so, I try. I use the booklet on the counter at the front door for shopping lists. The journals next to my bed, one is for bible verses and lessons, another I use for workouts and to measure my thighs. I use some for to do lists.

There are pages and pages and pages but not enough words to fill them all…

You Pt 2 ( Ankle-Deep)

I am only ankle-deep ( but really, waist deep). I’ve disregarded the waters creeping to my toes (but really they have reached my ankles), immersing my feet ( but really crawling up my calves) and taking a firm grip on my ankles ( but really, my thighs are emmersed).

I dare not let you see past my scruffy walls. I dare not let the waters up my legs ( oh, honey, they are far past your legs) I dare not let myself go and allow the waters to take me where they wish. I dare not! I am only ankle-deep! I can control ankle-deep! Ankle-deep won’t drown me! Ankle deep is safe and I can still escape unscathed -I think.