Wednesday, November 16, 2016
The Ocean Of Noise
Their expectations of me have become a shell and so it doesn't matter whether I'm really here or not, a shell can be empty inside
So if you know that I'm here.
If you can see me.
Here's to you.
Written by Me at 6:18 AM
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I would know
I needed this. Thank you.
Shells can be shed and regrown to your liking.
That's why I leave.
I am not a witer/poet, so i can never imagine your situation. But for me, the main strength in your writing is the clear vision about life. So please keep it. And be true to yourself. Whether or not we, your readers, like what you write. There's always someone who will.
I see not your shell; in your words I see your soul.
Your words are hauntingly beautiful. - M.
My expectation of you is that you continue writing so I can read it and gain a deeper understanding of myself through your words. But I love how you keep me accountable and remind me you're not just words on a page, or a blog, or a poet. I so appreciate that, and I so appreciate your words - however truthful or raw or honest they are. All I can be is greatful for what you are, who you are, and how greatly you can shake our beings with what you are so gifted at. Thank you for making me think deeper than what's right in front of me. Thank you for being here.
I have never met you in my life. I only read your blog. I can say, if you gone, i would know.
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