gush

O how I've missed my confession booth. Friday finds me in bed with propped up crochet. The remains of my mothers mania. In this place I feel I am home.

What is this possession of relinquishing all that I am in small bytes of detail. To step aside from the scrutiny and report what really occurs in my heart. If I ever questioned the need for earnesty, the answer has revealed itself to me in the past two weeks.

I've made a list of cords to cut. I am sharpening scissors. I am rehearsing apologies. I am creating more space. I have made a throwing out pile wrapped in brown paper of things to cast out of my life.

I could stay here all evening. It's been long overdue. But red satin calls me to action. I must leave my oasis and enter the desert once more.