Reasons

Twisting and turning with the letters. Delivering the message and wearing out this blank page. Humble giving to spark the imagination, is a choice puzzle to work.

       I can write about choices, or life, or empowering love. I can dig myself into a hole of reflection, but what I really like, is the power of a thought. I clutch my individuality with a tenacious hold. You need all the information before you can pronounce a conclusion.
      
      I can write about mission or I can pull my black bitch boots on and flaunt my way down the street. Thats the glory of individuality. Reasons to express, what would we be without the opportunity to say something, anything.............

       Wicked world and mercy streets. I've often thought of those words, as the circle of which my truths were based upon and all my illusions are compared. There are few in my world, who know what I've stood beside for, who know why I choose the paths I did. I have to believe in every heart there are pieces to which rational thought and irrational actions go hand in hand.

       I always said I was a simple woman. Simple, meaning, I didn't need for much, I didn't expect things from anyone in my life.  Some have said I was a dreamer. I have to agree.

       I dream of a love that tempts my life with unconventional. When you're an unconventional, you seek the spark that shows you life in new temperatures. What I understand now, is that you can't turn a spark into the fire that continues to blaze in your life, and not get burned.

There were time's I held onto the hands of time with such a force I thought I could stop the lost moments, and ease the loss I felt each time I entered his life and disappeared. He was the force that breathed life into my lungs and he was the ghost kept my thoughts and life full of hope.

His name was ?. When I try describing ? to those who ask my story, I find I lack for specific words that could encompass all that he was. Physically, he was my tall, dark and handsome version of a knight in shining armor. He could wrap his arms around every inch of me. I could cuddle up next to him and feel so tiny, and always safe.  He never held backon showing me the power of a smile, or the gentle grace of a kiss.

I had to know. What person that has found such questions, wouldn't seek the answers? There were enough warning signs. I would be lying if I said there weren't times; years even, I did my best to evict him from my heart and mind. ? wasn't to be removed from the firm grasp he had on my very being.

I think that's what happens when you have wonderful in your life. It's not meant to be forgotten. Perfect and wonderful don't necessarily belong in the same sentence. My wonderful was nothing near perfect, but full of wonder regardless.