I haven’t written one of these in a while…wonder if I’ve lost the touch?

I never thought I’d ever run out of things to say

But the words are getting harder and harder to write

Maybe I’m just bored I needed a challenge I needed to conquer

But then again what’s life without the joy of poetic whimsy

Perhaps the point of everything was to find myself and now

That I’m found

And happy

And safe

I am scared to keep looking because I don’t want to evolve beyond again

I am sick and tired of being asked to continuously metamorphisize and

After all I have no desire to be captured and pinned as a trophy created by man

The strange divide between where I wanted to be and where I was has closed

But the words are getting harder and harder to write

Even when I think they should come easier but you see maybe it’s the fact that

It is easy and I have struggled all my life to be free and to speak and to be heard

And now that people are listening?

Now I don’t know

Now I wonder

Did I do the right thing? Did I use the right words? It was hard to describe

It is always so hard to describe feelings for me that are outside the spectra

I am expected to see and predictibly I don’t describe them and maybe

That is why it is getting harder and harder to write

I am experiencing things I was told I didn’t deserve

And I am free

And that is a feeling

That I may never find the right words to describe

And maybe the fact that it’s getting harder and harder for me to write

Means that I’m connecting with the parts of myself that don’t know how to feel

But I promise you I. do. feel.

I write out the words and I backspace and I try again and I write harder because it’s harder to write

And pray that instead of changing into a butterfly or some other ethereal, unreal creature

I happily snuggle into the cosy warm cucoon of freedom I’ve built and stay warm forever