Usually

I'm usually good with words,
I can make sentences and stuff,
which are normally quite nice,
pleasant, even.

I can piece them together,
somewhat eloquently, forming
paragraphs that resemble
that satisfying Monday morning coffee.

Or the feel of Friday nights,
knowing you get to lay in,
the scent of salty waves,
after a polluted, crowded city.

Witnessing a shooting star,
or a tasty bacon bagel.
The rush of adrenaline
awaiting the band at a gig.

But, now, you've stolen my words
and also my heart,
I can't express my feelings
my vocabulary, torn apart.

I'm usually good with words,
but silence will make do,
it's not just the words,
but the pauses too.

Pause

(I love you)

Jar Of Happy

I'll place you in my little jar,
so full of happy and good feels,
keep you safe, tucked away,
only rarely to be revealed.

And when I'm feeling down,
although that doesn't happen much,
you'll be in there snuggled tight,
emanating love and such.

Snippets.

I remember, as a young Joanne, say around 8, going about my childlike ways in primary school. I would sometimes walk around the playground on my own. In my head, I would seemingly appear deep and excogitative, a child prodigy of sorts. In reality, I probably appeared quite lonely.

On one of these occasions, walking around on my own, I started to follow people. Not even people whom I was truly acquainted with. But I would follow these individuals, at a moderate pace, for a good few minutes, enough time to make them feel just a little bit uncomfortable. After that, I would turn to them and ask- "Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?". Then I would walk away, leaving them to contemplate my words.

I was an interesting child.