I’m worried I will always be
living in the shadows
of big cities
where people
with their shiny titles
walk past and look at me,
like I’m a sad story,
or worse,
look through me
and see nothing.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be good enough of a writer to be published. Sometimes I wonder if this will even lead me anywhere. But I remind myself that I write not for the fame or the approval of others. I write because I want to, because I have to. I write because I believe in using my words to make people feel. Because often times we don’t. But it’s ok to be broken. We all are. And it is in this brokenness we can find hope that stirs the soul to be stronger. This is the hope that I want to share in my words. So yes, I guess this is why I write 🙂

2 thoughts on “Invisible

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