I borrowed a poem to start an adventure.
Its true meaning I didn't quite understand but still made it my own.
I didn't know where it'd take me, I didn't care for how long,
I just journeyed in character far from the one I had known.
Somewhere along the pathway, I felt my footing off.
I couldn't describe the sensation except to say my steps seemed broken.
Each move that I took brought me further from a lifeline
and the further I went I saw nothing of me.
So here I am admitting that borrowed words like borrowed lives have no meaning.
The words we use to feed our souls, our hopes and dreams cannot belong to someone else.
The light that shines out from within all of us shoots out in different angles,
but the truest and purest light is found inside the most unpretentious and uncomplicated souls.
This new year I follow my own voice.
With humility I bow to shed the words that were not mine
and place them back where I first found them.
This is me in a perfect state of imperfection wishing all of you in my own words love.
