I condemn my writing. It is my love after my first love. It took its time with me. It held me, and let me cry. It dressed me when I couldn’t dress myself. It wiped my tears when I wanted them to fall. It listened when I was angry. And held the silence when I didn’t speak. Then something changed in my writing. It started to hold my hands and kiss them It held me when I wasn’t crying. Kissed my cheeks when I was happy. And made me fall in love.
I am close to tears at my creativity. I am proud of the woman I’m becoming, and I am proud of the work left to do to get there.
“God is within her, she will not fall.” Psalm 46.5