Purpose

It was as if I had forgotten the power of words and found myself lost amid moments. Words flow endlessly when tears fall from tired eyes, as you search for ways to communicate the hurt permeating from ones’ soul. Lyrics leap from pens when love no longer lives here or there. Pain like pressure creates diamonds, pressure creates poetry and verse. What words remain when the creative no longer resides in chaos?

I have found myself softer, quieter. Proper love has left me speechless…

These days, like most before, have been accompanied by many moments of joy and even some less than joyful. I have always known how to poetically capture the things that people speak of in solitude, creating imagery straight from the recesses of loneliness but writing about joy has never inspired literature…

Someone close to me (shout out to my fiancé) challenged me to relook and reframe that narrative. Instead of shying away from writing just because my life’s story has changed, I must find new ways to reignite my creativity. Pain is only a part of the narrative. My life has evolved since the days when pain was my ammunition.

People deserve to see the other side of struggle. I owe it to myself. My purpose can be fueled by more than just my pain. It is time for my writing to evolve…

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