writing the unsaid
there are days when the wind takes over and I doubt my roots there are days when the peaks I once climbed now seem out of reach and I doubt I’ve ever felt their height under my feet there are days when I don’t recognize the blue of the sky it seems so foreign to…
Part 1. I grew up not knowing who I was I was taught to dim my light and keep it locked in the corner of my heart I was taught to stay quiet and shape me according to their patterns I was taught that I was weak and helpless sometimes not enough, other times too…