More happy than content, a fantastic weekend, an amazing husband, and things falling into place. What more could I need? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What's better than writing bad poetry to celebrate...after all, it's been a long, long time :)
I am not a crier
Or a teller of secrets
And yet...
I do not often speak my mind
Or engage in brutal honesty
And yet...
I am still a wisher
A hoper
A dreamer of ridiculous dreams
And yet...
I find myself filled up, sated, satisfied
To the core of my marrow
And yet...
It is not enough.
I want it spilling from my lips
And dripping from between my fingers
Until I am left naked, shaking, shattered,
My heart bruised and worn,
My head tumbled and confused.
It can never be enough.
And yet, and yet, and yet...
It is everything.
