Al(own)e

I love your writings and you have so many friends. I’ve seen movies so I know what that’s like. The laughter, the applause. The friend who gets too drunk and says everything that everyone’s been thanking, so you thank them.

I dance in my kitchen too. But alone,  not in a sad way though. I don’t mind being alone and I’m never really alone. I dance in my kitchen alone so I can smile down at me. There isn’t any worry then, about what the eyes might be seeing or the mind be thinking. I dance to Jimi and the Beatles, the Roots and the Who.

Wondering who I am

Who I am

I am

a.m.

And the alarm rings and sounds a new day to discover who that is.

 

 

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