You have a voice. A beautiful voice, a unique voice, a strange and wonderful voice that is your own. No one else’s. Why do you hide it?
I’ve tried to write poems, novels, short pieces, song lyrics
but they are either too short or not long enough.
How can a person accurately describe the feeling of their entire body
being consumed by another being, a feeling of wholesomeness?
“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic — the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone. ”
“I loved you at your darkest.” — Romans 5:8
The words we bring to life on paper or from our lips, the timid and nervous confessions, the brittle anger that slips from our tongue, the lines of thanks, the good and the bad and the honest—this is what makes us real. This is what makes us connect to one another. This is what changes our lives.
Time heals everything. Eventually our pain will go away, our mistakes will be forgiven, our hearts will mend and our minds will find peace.
Bones heal but mantras are hard to change.
Words are terrifying because they can both create and destroy. Because I cling so desperately to them.
I know that whatever it is I’m going through, there are probably a million other people out there going through the exact same thing, good or bad.
‘I don’t know’