Some could ask, “where have you been?”
“What took you so long?” and they would
Be valid questions. I am asking the same
This has always felt true. It has always felt
Like home. I have been a runaway. I have
Been trying to find what was already found.
This is my treasure that was buried by me.
I have been hunting it and calling it by names
That wasnt its name. And I would find it and
No more. The treasure I have had and been
Searching for is mine. These words, this voice,
These thoughts, and this art is mine.
I make no vows and no promises to the future;
They end Dislocated and fractured. What i have
is this Eternal moment with which to use as
I See Fit. I choose to write.
For as many moments as i can i will embed
My soul like uncut diamonds into these words.
I will engrave my being disguised as poetry
Into the fabric of this universe.
Every moment I spend writing Feels like
breathing --It feels like home. So I am
Left to ask myself, “Where have you been?”
The whole time I have been here and not here.
I am here.
I am discovering and expressing
The Good, the Beauty, the Truth
Of Life through creativity --
Through the words that have always
Been scraping, screaming, to get out.
I am Here.