A part of me was always ambivalent to post my writing on here. I am slowly making sense of why this may have been. Maybe because how I feel about my writing is how a mother feels about her child. Protective.
(The only social outlet I have ever posted my writing on was my personal tumblr. Given the nature of the site, I felt comfortable sharing it on there than I did with any other social outlet.)
Throughout my love hate relationship with writing, one piece of advice I received that resonated with me was, “pour your heart out.” So maybe that is why I was reluctant. Because this is my heart. Maybe that is why my newfound motherly instincts are kicking in. Because my writing is from me and it is of me. Yet I am now setting it free.
When we write, we give life and colour to what we feel and think. It is like a regurgitation, only with emotions and thoughts. An emotional and thought filled regurgitation, if you like. So here is a regurgitation of mine I wrote around three years ago and still find myself visiting to this day. It is called Searching.
Last night I sighed
and whispered to God
that I’m exhausted
and want to come to Him.
But He woke me up
and told me,
I have a purpose.
I just have to find it.