a space all my own

I don't mind small spaces. I'm not claustrophobic, like most everyone I know. I actually kind of like small spaces, as long as there's no chance of spiders or bugs.

But I need room for my stuff and my things. I need a place to stretch and move and dance and watch and call my own. I need a place to expand and explode.

And after all that, I need a place to shrink and settle. Curl up into a ball and feel safe. Reach my hands up and around and know that there's something there, something tangible. Not a great, vast darkness where anyone or anything could be looming.


Post a Comment