Sleep and Mirrors

I cry out to my friends about how much I hate living out of a Suitcase and hotel rooms.

But I secretly love them. Laying my head in white, fluffy pillows that I will never see again. A door I can lock, a comforter I can hug, and a view I can retire to after I’m done doing whatever it is I came to the city to do. How romantic.

They don’t talk back. They don’t snore and they don’t judge. Like people do.

Some call it a lonely life but I am lively enough. I call it recharging. When I am with you, I’m on.

When I am in that bed alone, I’m home.

Great read. Thanks for sharing.
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