I Write

I write.

The deep of my heart. Hoping and praying someone would like what they read and see the depths of me.

I write.

To set up intrigue like a trap for the stray animal that ran away from its abuser. Maybe you’ll encounter the love that once saved me.

I write.

So I can allow my emotions and thoughts dance in the midst of their chaos to this beautiful symphony of life. To allow the hidden parts of me to be brought to light by the art that so entangled my soul.

I write.

To show you hope in the midst of an all encompassing darkness. Maybe, just maybe, my words would spark a flame in the midst of your darkness.

I write.

Not to be remembered, but to become a part of your story. I may just be the equivalent to a soft breeze brushing across your cheeks ever so slightly. Felt, but unseen.

I write.

So when I am lost, I leave a trail of seeds behind me. Blooming when Spring comes back around and I can see the beauty of the handprint that has imprinted my soul. Flowers so beautiful, you can’t help but to stop and admire the garden of this heart of mine that has been tended to.

I write.

Because vacancy was never an option for my heart. Like a hoarder, my heart becomes the home overwhelmed with the antiques of life. The yes’s and the no’s. The love and the heartbreak, The lover and the killer.

I write.

To empty and clean out my heart to give away my valuables for another to pick up and cherish when I am finally ready to let go.

I write.

For the cleansing of my soul.

I write.

For you and me.

I write.

Not because of the beauty in me.

I write.

Because I understand the value in you.

So, my friend, ask me to dance with you. I’m waiting for your hand. I know you see me. I see you, too. Let us dance so I can bring to life the experience I was given the honor to have with you.

I write…

For you.