What if I Write?
What if I do the things I’m afraid of? What if the stories in my head are put somewhere they can't be forgotten? What if I share my enjoyment of life? Share what I love? Why does it feel so impossible and scary? Why would I rather my stories die with me? Why wouldn’t I share the world’s pleasures that I’ve found hidden in small crevices?
A photo of a tree in the woods doesn't make a sound if nobody sees it. A lifetime of stories can't be remembered if no one tells them.
Faux vines on the walls, bright scarfs around mirrors, a constant haze of incense smoke and littering of incense ash, vintage photographs, scrapbooks of friends and love, antique trinkets, rocks and sea glass collected for a lifetime to create a life that envelops me in joy that I want to share. I want to not be afraid.
I don't want to silently fall in the forest.
