Trying I want to try to ignite the passion the release of tension the peace I found when I gave you my words.

Stirring She sat wondering what it was that she had done. Why had it changed and when had it all become so different. "We've become older" was one response she murmured. But it wasn't this that she wanted to say. She wanted to scream and shout "You forgot me". This was the real reason. Time changes us all she thought, but why should that mean that we forget. #life happens and shit gets busy but because someone is out of sight, does that mean they are out of mind. She stirred the spoon in her coffee. There was no sugar to stir, but she needed to do something that her eyes could focus on, before they cried. She watched the bubbles spin in anti- clockwise motion. "This is how I feel" she whispered. The thoughts tumbling like the bubbles. A tear slid from her eyes and stopped the motion. "You no longer need me"

Conclusions I've noticed that I am only inspired when I am in a dark place. When the spirals of sadness pull me deeper do I find my voice. But not the voice that can speak up and say, "no, I am not ok" Just the voice inside my head that whispers doubt. I've been here before. Let the journey begin.