Left with my own devices.
I’m sitting. I’m working, worshiping and loving everything my hands can get hold of.
I’m left with my own skin, my own thoughts, my self love.
I’m dissecting and contemplating, I’m wondering in all these movements.
I’m okay. I’m faulted, I’m content with that.
I make decisions with good intentions in all their movements.
I want. And I need. I grasp.