i miss

I've had worse years, maybe. Certainly worse lives.
It's hard to take the good with the bad when the bad used to be the fire under your creativity's ass.

I miss longing.
Aching.
Yearning.
One day not having everything I wished for seemed like more than enough and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball under a fifteen-pound blanket and sleep straight through winter. Only it wasn't winter. It was summer. All. Year. Long.
And it burned.

I miss the moon. Rain and running away. Howling in agony. Dreaming of making people love me if only to have more fuel, more incentive, to be wild. To be seen, to be named, here on my faraway perch.

I miss being wild.
I missed the whole year, imprisoned in aches and pains and ailments and grief, so I said fuck it and went and got another baby. She's four-pawed and fat and is named after all the love and all the days that came before her.

I miss thinking like a writer. Cataloging experiences by poetic phrase, tapping out every last ounce of lyrical eccentricity each delicious vista has to offer.

I miss being alone. I thought I could fix the part of me that wanted to hide away, but when I did I wasn't me anymore, and I was more broken than when I started.

This is my entry for the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community. I missed a lot of entries. Hopefully I still know the rules.

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_{Crows featured are Bo and Lorena.
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