14—the stinging warmth at the back of your head, tracing the arch of your breathing instrument, explodes like fireworks all over your face—a sign of the unfulfilled rest and lengthening of the waking nightmares. And because you were born a woman, you experience everything, everywhere.. all at once.
My eyes are burning.
15—the safest zone a woman could be in, is the period of pure nakedness after an evening shower, where you can sit on the floor, leaning on the bodice of your bed, and be in that moment for hours.. writing words describing the safest zone any woman should feel.
29—the sound of a stranger’s honking traverse from dreaming to breathing yesterday’s dilemma. I am sitting on the floor of a stranger’s house, yet I feel so at home. A manifest that a house is not a home, unless you are at peace with the strangers on the inside. A home is not a place, but the warmth of a stranger’s embrace, the sweeping of a stranger’s fallen leaves, the smell of a stranger’s cooking. I am alone, but I am not lonely. I am given the chance to be silent in my thoughts. I am given the chance to breathe the morning of a stranger’s coffee, and I am home–finally. I am at my happiest yet. And I am totally in control.
alien making earthly notes 