I will shed you like old skin.

Run off of me like water on a glass in rain.

Let the rain stop.

I am a bee and a butterfly.

I am stung but I can sting and I am beautiful.

This is a life outside of you.

This is a life after you.

I will move on.

Tied down no longer.

Free to be what I am meant to be.

Finally, finally, I am free to be.

Expiration Date

Here are the things that I will miss:

Always having someone close.

Being able to tell you where I am all the time.

Always knowing who I want to call and talk to.

Always having a potential date anywhere I go.

Having someone who is just as enthusiastic as I am about things like eating out and having adventures.

Having an adventure partner.

If I ever slept alone it was alright because I knew the next night wouldn't be that way.

Snippets

And so I walk toward a bus stop but not a bed where I cannot rest my weary head.

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Caterpillar clouds crawl over the grandest of canyons.


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So begins a novel. A calculated arrangement of words made from letters created with the intention of creating something, well, novel. Perhaps through plot, through characters, through careful selection of latter letters, or perhaps not.