I stared long and hard at the tea stained mug in front of me
Remembering my age whilst pondering untouched thoughts
New life
The idea overwhelms me but not entirely so that I'm repulsed.
I've never considered myself a maternal being, I'm hardly the type.
My soul feels otherwise, she craves the journey, she longs to nurture. I carry so much love only for it all to go to waste.
I'm young but getting older
Possibly I may never experience such things
I tell myself "Perhaps not knowing is for the best."
And if that is so, I think it only fair for a lonely woman to dream.