writer in the dark

sing

“You don’t have to sing it nice
But honey sing it strong
At best you’ll find a little remedy
At worst the world will sing along”
- Hozier

sing. sing so the world will know your pain, your strength. sing so your story does not go untold. sing until your heart glows with the release of long-repressed words. until it heals over the cracks in your soul. until the clouds are enveloped in the glory and hope of your battles and the sky shimmers in your light.

and in the dead of the night, when weary shoulders rest upon cotton sheets, when eyes stare into blank ceilings, refusing to close so they may stretch out this reprieve from the day, the stars will whisper your stories in their ears. the wind carries with it your strength, a gentle breeze that eases the tension off their tired limbs. a breath fills their lungs with the calm of the starlit dark, their blood with the music of your heart. and they’ll smile, just a little, recalling the songs of their battles too, knowing it still exists within them. they are not alone, they are not weak, and neither are you.