unsung

a tug of war. the undeserving type by which victory always belonged to the courageous. witnessed by empty pages, unsung stories, countless thoughts and further more half concepts yet to be concrete. 

let it be duly noted these past few months have been experience abundant. i have identified with humans i never knew existed. spilled more i-didn’t-see-those-coming tears than i would like to admit (but shame has no place here.) felt the wind of courage whisper before a fear filled escape. understood longing for people, people to be close and to stay. pursued risks i once had no interest in-after all i think it is nothing short of healthy to challenge those things you used to only see one side to. grace has cleansed those wrongs so surely believed about myself and others. i have held back due to self doubt only to be followed by regret. my eyes have seen beautiful things.

all this to say, writing has lingered above my head for what feels decades. whatever the reason may be, my desire to write has been non-existent--while my adoration for writing ever so constant. outlandish, really. my unfinished thoughts about writing are as goes; just as a place is no where without people to be cared for/care about, moments feelings and the way to make sense of it all is nothing without writing (for myself). it seems an injustice to let thoughts go unsung and not shared because what good is it to wake up one day to find i have protected my days, mind and heart. so here i peep out of silence to recognize the remedy, preserver, keeper and beauty that is writing. to deeper understand why i write, the next post will, in simple words express this. 

Sincerely,
B