On most days, I see the same faces, regularly. Rushing, smiling at times, blank expressions at others.

Whether I’m walking into the same shops, walking the same path at the same time as I do the majority of the time, the school run.
In such a small place, it’s hard not to see the same people daily.

And I just can’t help myself from wondering what it would be like if I could reach inside the minds of those people, crawl into their heads, these people I see and know and find out exactly who they are for just one minute.

Dreams and aspirations, fears and loves.
So many questions..

Is your life as mundane as mine, sometimes? Different day, same routine.

Do you long for the weekends when you can let your hair down and do as you please?
Or are you still grounded by responsibilities, routines that spill over onto the days that should be carefree?

Are you as happy as I am?
Or just as me, some days, do those dark thoughts creep and seep into your world as you know it and shatter your very core?
Picking yourself up afterwards from the very depths of despair and remembering the reasons why you continue to try, the love surrounding you that keeps you going, moving forward.

As I continue to stroll, I see someone with tattoos peeking out of their shirt sleeve.
Are you judged as I am? Have you ever been stopped in town and had a hand put on you and told you were going to prayed for, as I have?

Was it my ink or my facial piercings which made her believe I needed saving? She didn’t see me, instead chose her perception of who she thought I might be.
She didn’t see the look, the contempt, in my eyes silently projecting that I truly didn’t need her permission to express myself on my skin. Yet no words escaped my lips.
I walk on with a smile.


Have you hurt yourself as I have? Felt a cool, sharp blade caress your skin, in a desperate attempt to cry for help. The smooth, insignificant, scar diminishing rapidly as time goes on.

Do you laugh as I do? Cackling and snorting, eyes wet at something said, read.

Do you have a soul mate as I have? Finding a human being that you can’t live without, knowing that if their touch was no longer, your skin would feel numb without it.
That fire in your stomach, butterflies flying between your curling toes, soft moans on your lips and their breath on your neck.
Secrets spilled, secrets kept.
Love, whole and natural.

Do you cry, often, as I do?
A mixture of tears with a smile, happiness making its way from my eyes, spilling onto my cheeks.
Sobs vibrating my chest, heaving, emotions hard to control when sadness invades my essence.
The result of an advert on the telly, maybe.

Are you safe?
Is your home your haven, away from the wildness of the world, the bustle of life? The words spoken to you, soft, reassuring.
Or are you as frightened as I once was, bracing yourself for the violent torrid of abuse that you don’t deserve?
Wondering if some day, it could all change and your soul will be set alight in preparation of the times ahead.
It can and it will.

Are we as alike as I believe?
Or are our differences in the way of humanity holding hands and strengthening us all?



R x


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