Prose

Hello readers,

I found this prose on Tumblr and would like to share it with you guys:

Every night I sit down & I try so hard to write out the things that shake me. Because I think too much & I don’t talk enough & I write too often, but still not nearly as much as I should. But you see, writing is healing. It is a slow way of coming undone. A slower way of taking apart those so tightly woven seams & revealing oneself in moderation so that anxieties won’t fluster the heart strings. More often than not, the only time I write something profound is when I am sleepy. When I feel so light & slight & at ease. Every night that I write, it sort of feels like my shoulders are marble from the weight of that day & I’ve just chiseled away the edges of heaviness in my clavicles. I don’t know. I just feel light. I feel lighter is all. But you know, my eyelashes are feeling quite heavy right now & all of a sudden these words just seem wrong. I apologize.