Days exist in which I love the words I write. I, at times, love these words more than some of the people in my life. This is why…
The words I write have never spoken harshly to me.
Likewise the words I write have never once ignored me.
They have never insulted, demeaned, or chastised me.
My written words have, on occasion, revealed needed insights.
These words have also cajoled, pushed, prodded and cheered me to new
ways of thinking.
My words have never hidden the truth, nor have they shredded me
for daring to tell it.
My written words believe I have the right to exist.
They stake their claim to this simple idea.
My words will battle for me, the truth, and what is right.
These words place me first and refuse to let me hide.
My words weave a sense of safety for me- a literary hug,
and I am better for it.
And for all those people who refuse to do the same for me as my words, I really
Why are you in my life?