Beginnings of March

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I don’t want to ride alone, I usually sit in the back and stare out the window watching the world pass by super fast, I find comfort in the solitude and quite. I usually want to sit alone but not today I want you all around me.

I want to hear your laughter and jokes and want to feel your arms warmth on mine as it may touch. I want to see those eyes twinkling and want to answer all those question you ask. I want  your whispers that follow with laughter. I want to feel the love around me. 

I don’t want to sit alone today I need you all there. 

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I closed my eyes and  decided to go visit you. I never knew how precious your were until you were gone.

I climbed your 3 red tile steps and opened the screen door. how many times had That door slammed as I ran to the bus. I then admired your pastel colored specked tile floor and finally took that final step into you. 

I wanted to turn left to the dinning room we barely used. The glass table was there. I ran my fingers over it something my mother would never allow. It had the wooden chairs around it, I walked over to the window and set my hand on the cracked yellow tiled window pane and I leaned my face on the screen like I used to do and stared out a while.  I could feel the heat hitting my face and the screen smelled musty, nothing’s ever smelled like that again. 

Then I turn towards the heart of it all the kitchen the refrigerator to the left and stove to my right. We didn’t have a pantry but my mother would keep the cabinet under the sink like her pantry so I squatted and opened the cabinet doors and stared like I did when I got home from school but found nothing I wanted. So I turned to the refrigerator and found what my father always had Pepsi, that I loved. I poured myself a glass and headed towards the back of the house where my room was.

Your hard wood floor which my mother took pride in maintaing, shines as it always did. The wall right before my room to my left filled with pictures of me from kindergarten till 6 grade. I hated that wall. Then I turned the knob to my room, and heard the usual crack of the door, And I walked in and sat on my bed looking around. My room changed one minute it was pink furniture and the next it was more grown up furniture I guess I don’t  want to pick. Looking outside my window finding the familiar tree that hung its branches right outside, hitting the glass on stormy days. I miss that. 

I noticed how quiet and peaceful it is, my mother and father must be at work. Just me and you. Just like l use to like it. 

oh how I’ve missed you and how comforting it is to visit you again. I have not found another like you and I doubt I ever will. 

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why is it that the smell of you makes my heart rewind to a time when ballerinas and princess danced in my living room, carefree and innocently.

Where giggles and hugs, where wonder and tugs on my skirt to pick them up and sing a song and dance among the stars that they invented in their pretty little heads and  when they went to bed I’d find the crumbs beneath their bed.  


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 I love the way you make me feel. 

The pressure, the anticipation or the obligation to pour my soul out to you or perhaps just a drop of it, for my soul as a whole would be to much to perceive. 

I love that I can share a glimpse into my mind my comprehension of life or simpy I give an emotion a realization of some kind. Love, joy, pain, regret I can tell you all about them so I won’t forget.

It’s not for fame but to tame my desire my passion, for the words explain my hunger to proclaim any bit of life left in me.