Freestyle Week 13

I am a woman – touch me under the lace.

These days I feel less like a woman than an “it”. My passion, once so dominate, lies dormant and mostly in the background if I notice it at all. It isn’t about the sexual creature in me. It’s about the passionate one. The side of me once so full of ideas and fanciful notions is so distanced that I can hardly reach it anymore.

I don’t worry that it’s lost to me. I know myself better than that but I get lonely for that part more and more these days. I like to think of that as a sign that I’m getting closer.

Tonight, for example, the words just haven’t stopped. They flow from me undeterred and unbroken. I came in tonight to polish some ideas that I had put to Word and found that I didn’t need my own prompts. Everything that I wrote wanted to be said. I didn’t have to force a single nuance of a single passage. They don’t resound with brilliance but they are true and they are mine and they came easily.

For tonight, that’s enough for me. I can put this away, shut down the puter and go to bed feeling a little more confident that I am still in here even if a little muddied. Maybe that part of me that lives in the lace will find her back into my skin.

Certainly, the words offer hope.