To know someone deeply is to know a universe contained in skin. - Victoria Erickson

If you love something, then really love it. If that trip, person, or afternoon opened up new worlds and mindsets, then by all means, write or paint or play about it, or maybe even tell someone, and tell it the way it really is, exactly how it feels. It is beautiful to feel in a body built for feeling, and exist intensely on a planet exuding intensity, because life in itself is both intense and beautiful. There’s absolutely no need or reason to pretend otherwise.

Poems are both the doing and undoing. Electric prayers and sonnets. Hope deeper than blood and bone. Wounds you can place your hand on.

Sometimes you must allow your eyes to adjust to a truer shape of something you’d once molded and possibly loved but perhaps never wanted. Something to unravel now, straight from these roots. Something that at some point, you loosened your fingers around. Something that at some stage, you finally outgrew. So allow this chapter to hold you in darkly wrapped nights while allowing desires to just be desires before lighting that flame stemmed from your longing and churned into fuel so when it is time, you’ll have enough strength to surrender to fire that holds the burn long enough to finally take flight.