I write oddly, I think. It leaks out sometimes, blurts out sideways sometimes, and other time it pours through the levy destroyed. Lately, I cannot contain it. I am stressed and saturated in feelings. I wrote this when I was talking with my love tonight, and I want to develop it:
Faith slower restored
Blinding pain not ignored
Energy lost, floored
Tears, endless, poured
As with any idea, theme, melodic idea, or artistic expression, development is magic. The first iteration is inspired although particularly raw in its crudeness. There is a vulnerability associated. The idea takes on growth, play, improvement, work. It struggles and flexes and trembles as it stretches. It fails sometimes.
I had an idea, to explore my own sexuality and my willingness to be open, honest, and vulnerable. As I developed that idea, I met people and I learned. The past several days, the development has broken down. I want to crawl back inside myself and stay there.
…
Faith slowly restored as debilitation cannot be ignored
Energy lost, my independence floored, while tears endless are poured
Bleeding heart, tunnel bored, to hemorrhage hopeless insecurity scored
Please hold me on beach shored, so water can clean the past torrid.
