Some days I don't feel worthy to write a word knowing that I am revealing the underbelly of that part of my soul that hides but I write on because doing any less would be betrayal to my truth... I try to live in the highest ideals my higher self would have for me but it is a hard place to stay and harder still to see heaven before me and allow it to stay in the same room where my body roams about crushing the grass under its heel and and my mind slinks about trying to find its own place where it can call its own. I write because there is a part in me that knows that words are blasphemy to the soul but I write anyway... writing is what I do to keep living in a body worth the tears...