Today was melancholy as the first step to this project, stemmed from 'us.' The journey of a thousand moments, unfolding into a pure revelation as if documented in still frames.
Open, raw, and sometimes shocking. Am I ready? I hold my breath and move forward.
The roommate you refuse to acknowledge went with me, out in the rain, alone in the trees to taste raindrops cascading from the open arms of sky. They pelted my face like the millions of tears left uncried over us. Just us. What is now, was, and continues. The mother I am without, the wounds we hide between us. The raindrops, they stained my shoes, and pants, and coat, leaving dark trails to run down from pools under my eyes and down each cheek. Smears of my woman-ness.
And we ran. We ran trough the forest until our faces flashed life and our breath came out in chokes.
Then we gasped for more.
Open, raw, and sometimes shocking. Am I ready? I hold my breath and move forward.
The roommate you refuse to acknowledge went with me, out in the rain, alone in the trees to taste raindrops cascading from the open arms of sky. They pelted my face like the millions of tears left uncried over us. Just us. What is now, was, and continues. The mother I am without, the wounds we hide between us. The raindrops, they stained my shoes, and pants, and coat, leaving dark trails to run down from pools under my eyes and down each cheek. Smears of my woman-ness.
And we ran. We ran trough the forest until our faces flashed life and our breath came out in chokes.
Then we gasped for more.
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