The Monsters Inside Me Are Sleeping.

I found some lullaby singers. Sometimes you need someone to look you in the face and tell you they know you’re going to be fine. I feel full again. I am doing pirouettes, trying to do pirouettes, in the kitchen. There’s a nice wood floor, you know. The sun is warm, sky blue, I am pleased with the outcome of my day. Old faces. I feel full. I feel like my head is attached again. My legs are my legs, to be picked at and scratched. The in-grown hairs battled, instead of my soul at battle with whatever else is inside. I have more than my fair share of monsters. I have twenty and you have ten. I’ll be that much stronger for it. Maybe you have fifty. Depends who’s reading. My hand smells like henna and chocolate. Dreams are waking up in me. I have missions, quests to fulfill. I am twenty two. I have dreams waking in me. I have twenty followers on my humble blog. I have barefeet on a wooden table, in the sunlight. The wrinkles are shifting to make satin, if only for a moment. A satin, silk cocoon. Flexible. It seems possible to laugh again, to love again. The agony has run out of every minute. If only for now, the briefest of now. A reminder. Reminders, we need reminders! We all need reminders who and how we are. How we became these creatures, what stirs us, what jolts the blood in our veins to rush! 

A man I know is dying, and inside of me monsters are sleeping. Life and death are one single strand, spun with many stories, characters, messages. Life is spun with all colours. We are every single everything at once, a rainbow inside a wound inside a beautiful summers day, clotted with blood, sewn up with tears and laughter. 

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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