A reflection of the cold windy winter evenings?  

Somewhere between what she thought she was

and what she was becoming was essentially where she was meant to be.

Perhaps she was starting to love the journey

 And find the comfort in the quiet corners of her wildest dreams

She was not always this way.

 Even if she didn’t change

She made me always comfortable sharing my worst decisions 

And indiscretions with the world

I remember the way it always felt, drowning in the muck, 

And dancing in the rain

And I’d fall sick and promised myself to change my world

But I’ve always been attracted to the things that rip my heart out, love, dreams, broken people,

Pretty words from dirty faces that play with me in the rain

Without the phobias of the heart, 

The panic attacks or terrors

In sorrow we write,

In anger we smile

In sleep we walk

In thought we walk, 

In misery we wake,

In happiness we speak

In shyness we shine from hiding

Bury our conventional way of thinking alive

There’s fire in her belly, and a passion to ignite it

She is cold on the outside, but warm and innately enticing

The princess of my fridge…….

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