always i tumble into the tumult– only to find my way through.
always i tumble into the tumult– only to find my way through.
i do miss sleeping next to you– but i also love sleeping alone.
leaving doors cracked makes it impossible to open any wide…
there is no one who i’d like to curl up next to more than lovely you.
you’re forcing my hand and it’s beginning to make my heart start to ache.
i have choices that i am just beginning to fully acknowledge.
you make me laugh when you call me on things of which i was unaware.
perfecting the art of crazy– pioneering new experience.
i love you, dammit. you self-centered, charming beauty; you’ve got me.
why not just not cry? detaching from the process allows unfolding…
the edges of myself 