We store emotions in our hips until they become like a junk drawer. A little of this, a little of that. Slips of memories crammed into the nooks and crannies.
“It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult.”
Some days the current of the space between flows like a slow lazy river, taking it’s time.
Once upon a time, I was taught to believe that I was unworthy.