What do I have here? This girl, armed with a pen and a notebook, defiance and vulnerability, an idea and a song. What do I have, when all else is stripped away – shaving down piles of consumerism, trinkets and toys. A layer, as I sit, surrounds me in an orbit of products, collections, the skin of image, hiding a core sat trembling.
Peel that away, that throwaway shell, and there is the question. What do I have?
I have love. I have hope. I have belief. I have determination. I have things to share with the world and yet these things are not physical. I have compassion. I have a voice. I have a story. I have fear. I have strength.
Love, the deepest rouge, the wildest spirit, bucks and snorts and leads me to the edge of the world. Hope, oh blue hope, drives my soul as I wrap myself in possibility and magic. Belief, swaying this way and that, a reed in the breeze, a strong core beneath. Determination, that long pathway of glistening white, rocks and pebbles and ever onward. Compassion, a test, a lesson, a journey. A voice, golden tones, to whisper or to cry aloud, ears and minds, mouths and souls. A story that’s mine alone, who I am, who I am yet to be. A draw to times past, a glimpse of a place many years ahead. Fear, that dark soul, rips at my being, tears me apart, a food, an acceptance.
Strength. To use every part of myself. To feel and not be shamed. To be and not be judged. To rise, and continue, and grow, and live.