I try but she slips away, fluttering out of my reach.
I sit in the quiet -
breathe into the moment,
she hovers above me.
If I am at peace, she might settle,
stay a while.
And I might forget what it was I was chasing.
Miriam E. Miles
I write despite trying not to. I cry and bleed and laugh into the page. What you see is what you get.