Love

My constant.

My earlobe rubbing feeling of security.

The rug ripped out from under me.

The hole in my heart.

The rage in the cage.

Suddenly lost in the city.

Where am I going and how to I get back to what and who I am?

Love.

I wrote this sitting in my car, in the dark, waiting for work to open last Thursday morning.

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About iwentcrazy

I am very, very, very average. And very, very, very lucky.

Posted on February 28, 2015, in Honey Bee, Rabbit Hole, Source, Universe and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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