Sanctuary stuff storage

Storing stuff. So sanctuary.

Ten things, once. Upon a midnight dreary.

Tick tock.

Tigers singing, screaming, clawing. Friends, still there, but also not. Quiet. Knew this would happen. Missing.

New friends. New people. New places. To get out there again. Coffee dates. Dinner. Hiking.

Random rambling.

T’t’t’chai.

Forcing to write, because otherwise is mental blockage. Another way, another route. Also music. Playing. Change.

New and novel. Things we share. Things some avoid. Things I must embrace.

Not even halfway there. Didn’t think I’d make it this far.

Little steps. Baby steps. That movie.

That one time, together. You, me. New, novel, fun. Blinded by the awesome, ignored the rest.

The rest…. the rest…. the rest…..

Was so much more important.

Now change. Different you. Different me. Dyads, triads, solo.

Solo is good. Autonomy. Freedom. Liberation. Joy.

Cauliflower crickets.

Engage!

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