Ink Stained Soul…

Like the willow, I bend and weep – intriguing but not where you want to sleep. So I asked to be changed into an oak: rooted and tall, somewhere you want to be, to help things grow. Easy trails are less complicated; these were your places to roam.

I asked one last time to be beautiful me – the one who’s messy, fierce, yet kind; impulsive, chaotic, and embracing all her parts, refusing to not shine. She learned it was never about being who you wanted her to be. She’s many things, but one thing she’s not: a coward who hides and suppresses herself. In her she is free.