...

I want to be the rain that fell into the lake as we buried grandpa's ashes. I want to go back to those few hours when I felt him there beside me. But I mustn't want. "I want never gets," remember? You locked me away and I started to think.



I want to feel like the candyfloss they sell for too much money at those cheap fairs. Wanted and unwanted all in one. Whereas at the moment I am sometimes wanted, sometimes not.

I want to be weightless - feel myself spinning and spinning and spinning until my feet barely touch the ground. I want to dance again, like a water nymph dances through water - graceful and spontaneous.


I want to bend again so that my feet can touch my head with my stomach on the ground. I miss being properly bendy. I hate it when people tell me how flexible I am, but I try to stretch properly, like I used to and my muscles scream and I can't do it.


I love the way that sometimes I can just play and play and play, and there is only music, and I am breathing music and living music and I am music because nothing else in the world can bring this sort of freedom.



I love the way I feel when I'm tangled up in you late at night, and all that is real is heavy breathing and heartbeats and ecstasy. When we are the only people who exist, life is perfect in a way I can barely remember in the harsh light of day.

I love the way rollercoasters turn me this way and that and upside down and I feel alive at the end. I love the adrenaline rush and the way I can barely stand straight at the end. I love how I always want it again.