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"For I have known them all already, known them all— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? -- t. s. eliot"

I've been a lot of people, a lot of places, a lot of things.

I've been a friend, a daughter, a lover. I've been by the shore, been separated from the sea. I know too much of the highway now, seen too much of  those dotted lines, those burning trees that line the road in fall.. I watch words collect in used coffee cups that leave rings on the table.

Now I'm nestled up inside the mountains of Massachusetts, waiting. Waiting for the snow, waiting for the storm, waiting for the year to pass.

I want to do things, go places.

So for now, I write.

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