A Room Of Her Own

All I need is a room. A room with room to grow. A room with space to breathe. A room with a view. A room with a heart that beats to my footsteps. I don’t have a lot of things and I don’t need a lot of furniture. Just a simple bed upon which I can lay my head. A warm place to sink into and where I can hide away from the world. A few chairs upon which to sit and converse with friends. A small table to place our glasses on. Large, wine glasses brimming with liquid and love.

All I need is a room. A room with a long dresser, made of rich wood. A dresser so cherished, not only for it’s aesthetic, but for what it holds. The clothes that I have acquired, neatly folded and tucked away. The loved ones that I have known, framed and displayed. The scents that have mingled in the air and landed on the skin of my wrist…the nape of my neck.

All I need is a room. A room for me.

All I need is a room. A room for me to be.

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