Same #438

Words don't actually give direct answers.

They reinforce what has been laid underneath them.

The things that have been tucked into folders to be pulled from.

Starting with our moments until at some point they stop being personal and become definitions from elsewhere.

Without consideration for whether or not those concepts were usable on our own pages.

Whether they care for us or encourage not getting along with ourselves.  

Read as a permanent block instead of a temporary way that no longer makes sense.

In all the times that we have believed that strength isn't alive in every single story.

In fear, settling-in as proof that brave has left the chat.  

In unhappy closing off the path to happy.  

And in laughter, being the only important results from what tears have to go through to get to the surface.

But we are the ones who have to live amongst every single word we hold.

People with pasts and futures who need them to work with and not against us.

And while commonality has a sense of safety, it's harmful if over there doesn't understand that the same word has a valid position over here too.

That forced connections don't leave room for individual blooming.

For words to be felt and not just written.

To be loud and to whisper.

To experience instead of being told.

To make mistakes and still dig out the person worth not forgetting under the mess.

And to cherish the smoothness, the wrinkles, and the scars.

Because words living rent free in our stories reflect the gardens of others and cost the flowers meant for our own homes.

Being used to fixed identities makes defining ourselves feel impossible despite hope.

Finding certainty in the safety of agreement keeps pain breathing.

Staying speechless because others do doesn't change what we have been through.

And love becomes pricier when we accept being torn up rather than supporting ourselves.

Everything is the same until it isn't, and we can change that one word at a time.

For it is never too late to disarm what hasn't been reinforcing care for our gardens as well as us as the gardeners.

Have the best day, POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell