Whistling Along

Someone once told me I have to stand up to the shadows to lift my heart. To break the silhouette that holds back. Little did I know how much that is a journey. It killed my song and went all wrong.

It just said go for a run. To write, it said of all the messages that thread. Those needles you sew that warrant gold. Do not take it easy, because it is in the freezing that we glow.

I warmed my hands with desire and met it to conspire. Waving and shaking the dusty days, that is when a dress formed and clothed my body. Kissing my skin with lace the shadow was one.

 

My lace pallette that evolves into a dress.

My hands would shake and I didn’t know how to make, but somehow the path was saved.

Through the storms of my mind, my heart found the sign. This is you imperfectly true.

So then my hands began to trust to hold a heart to love.

 

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