Late night rien-du-tout

I wish to write more and feel of what the world has to offer me.

I wish to love without being judged, I wish to laugh without having to to stop at some point because there will be, a point where the smile has to calm to a horizontal line, and I will have to wake up knowing duties will swallow me whole. I wish to write without having to stop for a pencil sharpening or an ink refilling. I wish for the words to come out of the page and transform into the image I portray.

I wish for that, my world, to be seen by others, not just by my lonely brain, seeking comfort from strangers who don’t even know my name.

I wish for words to always be pushed out of my mouth, unthought and untamed, I wish for no mistakes within them as they are, and remain exactly how they should’ve been said. I wish for thoughts to be whispered screamed and not only felt, not only kept hidden underneath layers upon layers of silenced ideas.

Words will be spoken out, words will be sung, words will be chanted and yelled at top of lungs. Words will light the way, words will lead, words will stay when people don’t, words will ever be;

spoken

heard

praised.

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