the urge to create
to become something great
seeking validation from the external
opinions seen through
a notification
or a typed search
to be seen is to be loved
they say
but
I think
maybe it's not the most important
anymore.
the urge to create
for yourself
for people that see you
see your growth
your pain
your love
your heart
they see you
and
appreciate the value of you
the urge to create is not
for yourself or
for the world
but maybe yours.
the little universe
its all yours to hold.
yours to grow
to build
to shine in
so shine bright

create a life you're proud of.

the urge to create

There is an aching in my bones.
An itch I can’t scratch.
Something inside I just can’t reach, or figure out.
So I walk.
I walk to the woods, snowy covered pine crackling right beneath my feet. I swing my arms, feel the chill as the tallest true looks down at me, my eyes only reaching the trunk.
A doe meets eyes with me, swiftly, for a split second for at one point, she was me and I was her.
Scared. Naive. Fear.
These things come into me so easily.
Like some sort of pull, you wiggle the fear button and there she goes, scared again.
“What’s to come?”You may ask.
“Just the unknown” I reply.
And that’s the fear isn’t it?
Of what’s to come…

I’m all giggles and in love with you.

Last night
You bought me a new beanie because you thought I would like it and would keep me warm, plus you know how much I love them.
A Reese’s chocolate lava because they’re my favorite at the corner store you stop at.
To be loved is to be seen.
Last night you picked me up, high in the air, me giggling while you held me close to your chest high in the air.
We play wrestled and I giggled. I giggled. And I giggled.
Last night we spoke about my fears & you gave me reassurance.
Last night we had a slim jim war and I nearly died laughing.
Last night you taught me a wrestling move.
Last night you felt my heartbeat through my wrist and you rubbed it because my heart was beating so fast and you wanted to slow it down.
Last night I cried because how sweet you were saving all the notes I’ve written you and how close you held them to your heart.
How you carry me with you wherever you go.
Last night you danced with Maisie and I as we all laughed and smiled.
You’re a dream come true.
Thank you for last night.

I miss you.
I miss your smile.
I miss your laugh.
I miss your hugs.
I miss your kisses.
I miss you.
But you’re at work,
So I’ll see you soon.

Parts of me are broken.
Parts of me are healing.
Parts of me are out of order.

Parts of me are hard where they used to be soft.
Parts of me are stronger.
Parts of me are soft, loving, and nurturing.

Parts of me are teaching.
Parts of me are learning.
Parts of me are growing.

Parts of me are kind.
Parts of me are angry.
Parts of me are beautiful.
Parts of me are vile

All the parts of me
As angry,
As ugly
As dark,
As kind
As beautiful
As imperfect,

All these parts of me,
As much, as they bother me,

I still get to be me, and I still get to be loved by you.

I hope every morning at 4am, when the world is dark and you crawl out of bed and you’re getting dressed or smoking a cigarette, you know you’re loved.
I hope everyday you know you’re appreciated and seen.
I hope that when a song comes on you think of me.
I hope you know you’re my moon in the darkest skies and my sunrise on a dewey morning.
I hope you know when you touch me, I melt.
Your sweet words follow me throughout my day.
I hope you know you take my breath away.
I hope you know you’re safe, you’re loved and that you’re cherished.
I hope.