Promises, Promises

I’ve missed writing. It feels like there’s a hole, when I’m not stringing beads on a thread each week, like I’m burying observations down deep, drowning them like kittens. It may be a a tiny outlet to write here, but it’s still an outlet. They’re still words. They’re still mine. Or maybe they’re not: little birds seeking the sky, and I’ve let the latch go rusty on their cage.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s