I set myself in front of this blank page
with a rucksack, and a map I embark on a journey
to write
My fingers long to be the connection between everything I feel and everything I put on paper. All that I am desperately waits to flutter out of my body and settle on this page.
read me
see me
taste of all that is me
this, this is who I am. Who I was and will never be again. This is every brick I've collected along my way, and this is my center of gravity while I stand atop those bricks and reach for the all that I could be someday.
Someday.
What an awful word.
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