she gathered her anger,
the hundreds of pieces that had fallen out of her purse
and very lady-like, put them back in her bag
they lay at the bottom, staying to themselves.
not much on making friends, they usually just stayed alone,
with only the occasional outburst.
she never acknowledges the keys, makeup or wallet.
they got all the attention or so it seemed but the reality was,
she wasn't comfortable unless they were close by.
an emotional blanket, with sharp edges
helped her keep the perspective that soothed her pain
That day she tripped and her purse spilled out,
was a God sent but it was lost on her.
it was meant to be a new start,
but to her, it felt like she had stepped off the edge of a cliff.
once she felt safe and secure again,
she picked up her purse and headed down the street
with the mental assurance that all was well.
It came tumbling out in the middle of the night and I knew if I didn't write it down, I would never remember. Might sound like this was written by a woman in anguish but nothing could be further from the truth. This was written by one who hasn't had a piece of toast, a slice of pizza or a hamburger in over 10 years and who has had all three in the last 7 days. Crazy good...
