cranial station

I can’t help but write, the words need to be free from this cage my skull they’ve been  knock knock knocking. Head is rocking, or has my own foundation began to shake?There’s no doubting it’s just me  right now feeling this way, like needing to spit   e v e r y   l e t t e r   straight to your face. Get it OUT! I’m calm at the moment, purposely laying every word out in the open. One, two.

CLANG CLANG, I must say that I never saw this coming, the overflow from my cranial station, who likes making sense anyway, I have no set rules. .. … . You’d think there’d be a system to the mayhem, or at least a clock somewhere, yet my thoughts take control and my brain screams to let go of the tension- #^%&! LET GO OF THE WOOOOOORDS! They’re like tiny monsters wanting to escape and go party with each other, I’m taking the backseat on this one guys.

I can’t help but to type instead of sleep, my brain’s definitely been working hard to keep the pace up.  I’m about to crash any moment, but there’s much in mind, not enough time for things unimportant. Release of this brain dust so I can sleep so tomorrow I’ll function.

Twisty words make it fun to open up a gifted poem, but today doesn’t have reason to the silliness. No, this is just a  space to let creativity be just that.

PC

PS New All About, with meh face

I dream of the days I’m home

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When I start to think about home I imagine a clean and fresh scent as I walk through the front door. The first thing I want to do is remove my shoes to feel the solid floor. I breathe in a silence that sings serenity, and my muscles relax as I feel soothed already.

When I sit down, cluttering the table now with all that I brought through the door, I drift away into a peaceful rest that turns into sleep for an hour or more. Awake, I find my family beside me, mess cleaned caused by my arrival, with a smell in the air of fresh food. In the kitchen I look out to the garden, searching for the sight of my only son. I smile when I find him laughing with friends in the yard I’ve worked hard to give him- room for creativity, freedom to be loud and move.

When the dark of the evening settles, I feel a hug come from behind my waist and my husband starts to rub up and down my arms. I was tired from the day, but now there are no worries, not to be thought of anymore. The bedroom is inviting, the bubble bath hot with flames lining the tub, with flowers, too. When I slide underneath my covers I feel safe knowing the people I love are under my roof. The comforter heavy on my body feeling therapeutic in the cool under the whispering fan. I sleep and I dream of the days I’m home.

Powerful Creation