Sometimes all I have is I’m sorry on sunny days. I have I miss and need you on most days. Every few months since 20 I break and it all feels broken and idle. You’ve seen me here twice a year it seems. Twice a year I guess I question me, we, us, them and why.
“When the floor feels more familiar than the ceiling ” [Emeli Sande lyric] , I know I won’t stop loving you. Rhythmically I cheat, you see it coming before anyone else. Happiness seems quick yet fleeting, split thoughts are common and the mind constantly swerves. Broken spirit and a contrite heart, a misshapen heart that hasn’t seemed to learn how to live you right. 23 years and 8 years of consciousness.
Writing which has never seemed to have left me evolved from music, to poems, to blogs, to prayers and mixed messages. My favourite form of communication isn’t entirely like yours but we work. I think about your love, the greatest gift ever given to me besides life. Your love that shows me to love me, to then love you, us, him, her, and them. I have hope for better, I have faith that everyone will be better and love that I’m constantly learning about.
Reader: my posts are sometimes mixed, sometimes a conversation and sometimes a prayer. Plus hundreds of other things.