With one hand on my tender heart, I write.

we’re going back to basics today

to poetry, to flow

to yearning

to cobblestones and window panes

to sitting with pain

and just watching it

just breathing softly

this is it and this is everything and this is nothing

at all.

we live in a cutthroat world / or at least a fickle one

and more and more, I am realising that

I need to be able to express my truth

I am past playing games.

I can’t lie. I can’t pretend.

this is what I choose, have chosen, commit to

for myself, above all else

for myself.

I am not selfless, and I burn.

and I hope.

and I dream.

and I love.

and sometimes, it all goes up in flames.

this is the moment and it’s exactly what she was born to be.

and this is what she does. and this is who she is.

I am human too /

and I am reminded of just how much courage it takes to live open-heartedly.

Photo by Omer Salom on Unsplash