There are hidden feelings underneath, trying to poke through the surface. If I am still enough, I hear you. A whisper can be heard in all the places we have ever been. Where we are standing is how we are now. Your footprints leaves muddy marks all over the place whilst I tread softly in a way not to disturb the peace. I've learnt the hard way in which this be true. Did you know your prints are only yours to keep and no one can replicate them. In a way that's the hardest thing for us to discover these things can never be erased but will leave a stain of the memory always. I smile knowing this to be both a good and bad thing. Things are never as bad as they seem in a moment your eyes look my way again and that cheeky grin appears on your face, I blink and you are gone again. The taps are dripping but the bath is empty some one left the plug out and now its broken. The chain remains but the plug left this place days ago. I'm counting in case this becomes something that will matter in the long run. 100 is a number that I like. I can hold my breath and count and I let it all go into the wilderness as we open the door to our camper van and run into the water in the way we always knew would happen. Our home is waiting for us on the side of the road and its ours to keep for all the years where time treats us well. And I will hold you in all the other times.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.