"Therapist" was the name of the journal I kept in High School. Unlike a person, it never told anyone about the difficult things I was dealing with as an angsty teen. Even now I re-read those journals. Putting ideas on paper is possibly the best way I deal with issues.
So here I am, unable to sleep, busily doing nothing and waiting for the morning. You'd think a pioneering post would be 24 hour madness but we've got more free time on our hands than we can easily handle. There's been a poem in my head for a while and now that I have a bit of motivation I thought I'd put it here.
It's been years and she's seen a thousand sunsets
and a thousand times the sun tickling the dawn.
Cliches like suns rising and falling
could never be more delicious
everytime she wakes and sleeps.
A thousand horizons. Some as big as Sunday pancakes,
some prickly like cactus,
and others filled with cold water.
Waiting on those suns,
has never been more delicious.
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