And it could be paranoia..
Big blue eyes, locked with mine..
How quickly you fold..
All of these riches, I had in my hand..
Why do you write?
And when the phone-call came, my stomach sank.
Taken from a post by the lovely writer of "Find Your Happiness". A series of questions for self-reflection! If you're a blogger and reading, why not give them a go and leave me and the creator a pingback so we can see your answers! 🙂 S x Do I believe that everything is meant to… Continue reading Behind the writer.
The voices grew louder, The air thick and warm. Both corners of her mouth curled upwards with delight. Oh, how she had missed it. The blazing fire in her stomach, The snarling thunder in her throat. She would hold her own. She would push back. No longer scared to be ‘too opinionated’. No longer scared… Continue reading Free.
Wheels screech to a halt..
I know they say she’s gone, but it won’t stop me searching for her as we drive along the road. Eyes scanning for the little red coat, or tightly curled white perm. I’m not sure if I’d prefer to imagine she’s on holiday, or just away for a little while. The absence of cigarette smoke in… Continue reading Return.