She stands on the outside of her front door adjusting the armful of items left in the car, fiddling with her keys to unlock the the door…she slips the key in the lock and exhales a long breath, heavy with discontent, knowing what awaits her on the other side.
The above was written two years ago and has been in my list of drafts. I find it interesting to go through and read what I had started to speak. Somethings trigger memory of what I was feeling at the moment, and others, I realize they come from a deeper place. A place I am still uncovering.
I honor these simple drafts! From one word to a pageful of emotion. I very rarely, if ever write from my head. I was called a heartspiller quite sometime ago by wonderful soul. He knew that I am poured out, best served from the deepest part of my heart.
And I continue to remain…