Writing, scribbling, scrawling
used to be my way of unscrambling my past
my scattered sense of self
my passionate desires and longing

and now

I have become still.

I do not write as much or as often.

Why?

Simply put - my life is serene and constant
and full.

Full of love, free of the demons I’ve put to bed for good, built upon years and years of sacrifice.

I am busy with my roles - Husband, Father, Protector, and Provider.

Some days I miss the crashing waves
and the practice of pain into art,
but today,
today my currents run deeper,
more subtly, strongly,
and quietly.