Rebekah

I wasn’t put here for love or hate, tears or smiles. I wasn’t put here to feel or strive, sleep or rest. I was put here for words, and I will find them without all of that. Maybe under rocks, buried in the soil. Or in the nest of a bird, weaved between twigs and string. Perhaps I will find them in the ocean, the place that I fear most, with the fish and seaweed and the bubbles of air that are as desperate to find the surface as I am. I don’t care where I find them; how many trees I have to climb, how many walkways I scrape my knees on, how many hearts I must ignore. I will find my words.