this is it.

This is where I write. This is where I sit down, and open my heart. This is where I write things too hard to speak aloud. This is where I miss you. This is where I try and find the feeling of prickled skin. This is where I turn the music up. This is where I tell you my dreams. This is where I tell the truth. This is where I tell you all that I know. This is where I cry. This is where I reassure you and tell you that i’ll be ok. This is the sign you’ve been looking for. This is where I find grace. This is where I talk to strangers. This is where I keep my peace, my hope, my love, my happiness, my fears. This is where the wind blows. You were meant to read these words. This is the mulberry bush. And around and around we go, together.