Exploration

I write to explore myself.

To dig beneath the dust that covers the shelf,

Displaying my soul like the rise of a sun.

I write neither for the nosy eye or the goodbye that comes

After I cannot meet the unrealistic expectations of those I love.

I write to share the love I cannot express.

I write as a way to process my surroundings.

I can visualize the pollen that follows the breeze,

Among the green path of my childhood.

To the rain of adult decisions.

With a selfish nature of sheltering my appreciation.

I write to share passion.

I write for myself.