Margins & Murmujrs

I consider myself a wordsmith of sorts.
Remembering when God told me to write it down-
not for the world, not for applause,
but because my heart was too full to hold it all.

There's a certain kind of healing that only happens when pen meets page,
when silence gives way to syllables.
and the truth spills out, unpolished, unplanned, but holy just the same

Some days I write to remember,
some days I write to forget.
Either way, the words keep saving me.