This week I have wandered. alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts. from the coffee shop in the park to the icy edge of the ocean I strayed, Then returned to the warm yellow windows of my family home. My hair is a mess, hasn’t been washed and left in a low tuft, at the nape of my neck, twined together with a green satin ribbon.
This week I have wandered. Alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts, from the kitchen I crawled back to the warmth of my solitary sanctuary. And there I stayed, as normal, in my navy knee length sweatshirt and joggers.
And now, as I sit in my single bed, pale back against the radiator, the tears finally come.