Good grief…. I’m in the wrong field. I shouldve majored in mindless, trendy application design.
Sometimes I wish you could hear the voices,
The rush of air or the sweet sigh to signal the end of turbulence.
I saw the pills and wondered what they silenced, the loudness of the world or the stillness inside you.
I wasn’t worried either way just kissed your wrists to love the hurt away. I could taste the bitterness, the stale cold metallic taste of hopelessness.
I shuttered at the thought that your shameful success could’ve been my hapless failure.
I’ve been at the salon for over an hour, waiting. It may be time to find a new stylist….
Only one missing is Sanaa…
I love Regina Hall.