• original_closet_poet 9w

    Nothing that blocks the senses like a pen with no ink. Can’t Write what’s inside..when my heart needs to think. It’s all so overwhelming like a pot that’s just been stirred. The waters are rising with a need to be heard. How does one express them individually? When they mesh and suppress and compress repeatedly. I can’t seem to separate the good from the bad. So I’m feeling both all the time. And it’s slowly driving me mad. Not one pure happy or deeply sad cry. I feel the middle misery and the question stands to why. So, I follow the breath to a calm and centered place. Try to find my words that can divide the thoughts and space. I breathe without the knowing or the understanding how. I settle on the inside just to be. Here. Now. Maybe there is no answer. Maybe there’s no perfect way explained. Maybe it’s just the trusting that can be appreciated and gained. Trusting my own inner voice to walk me through the grey.. breathe into my soul some silence til she has something meaningful to say.