A place to call my own
What am I doing here
Gotta break free
Its not that I’m not loved
It isn’t that I’m unwelcomed.
I just gotta go
I gotta flea from here somehow…
I have to find my voice, feel comfortable in my own unique space.
A place to create
A place to Write
A place to mediate
A place to be a 100% Me.
A place I won’t ever hide myself.
Oh to be in a place where the space is filled with exactly who I am & where I wanna be.
A place just for me to paint or write or vacuum all night Or sleep or rock out or bounce ideas off the wall all day.
As well as a place all my friends & family like to be as long as they understand there is a time they must leave.
A place I can give readings & set up a Healing room…
A Healing room just for You. A space outside of your place you too can feel at Home too.
Oh a place with a quaint little garden and the house all decced out in oddly girly couture.
A place where open mind & fresh ideas have a red carpet laid out for them…
With the scent of fresh flowers outside the flower boxed windows & the sweet smells of Grandma’s avena to make this place reak of Home.
With a sign my dear friend made proudly displayed at my front door that simply states, Welcome to Angel’s Place…
Where everyone drinks from wine glasses but none is ever served & meals are always provided on fine china & eaten with plastic forks.
I kid you on that… I just want you to have fun in this space of my own I’ll call Home.
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