Here I am holding on. Not letting go of the past, not throwing anything away. Circling garbage cans on a treadmill. Trying to water expired love.
It can only begin when I let go of you.
What’s got me thinking about freedom? A man spoke to me and I smiled. After I smiled, I said hello and when I said hello my hands relaxed and all that I had been holding onto fell on the floor Like particles of dust. Soon to be swept away by the evening janitor who always prepares for tomorrow.
All those years has slipped between my fingers a lifetime ago and left me holding nothing but trash.
Victoria
Victoria Dillard Daily 