For all my life I yelled, mumbled, screamed, whimpered. Inside.

I felt trapped. I was mute. I remained silent.

I spoke only to mislead, placate, protest.

Today my words flow, jump, land, descend onto the page.

Sometimes ripped, cajoled, flooding, from my heart.

That’s where they come from. I used to think that they came from my brain.

Today I feel the words I put on paper. They validate me and they validate you.

They help me with the joy, fear, love, pain, comfort, grief, completeness I feel today.

These words take a fragmented soul and mend it together. They are the bandages, sutures, that make me whole

My most fervent wish is that these feelings that I offer, enter your heart, give you pause, bring you to tears, as they do for me.

That is why I write, to transmit feelings to you.

Effervescent, mundane, powerful, slippery, beseeching, vague, light, opaque.

The words know me, they are me, they belong to you. Take them, make of them what you will.

The words are my children.they complete me for a time, they are flesh on the bone’s of my soul.

Most of my life I have felt less than mortal. Today my words make me immortal. they will touch people in some way. These people will touch others.

My words live today. They have saved me from a life, and death, alone.

They connect me. They are my soulvomitt.