Heart is open in making space for love. I want more of me in here. I need my reflection so much and it hurts in the process of pulling in and clearing out the turmoil and torched up shit. I burn so much these days. Signing my name on papers that I regret stepping onto, scrolls of directions say it is a sin to be committed to someone so fucking opposite, but it is a sin to step out of it. And Haylee May, you are a writer, you have to follow through with your promise. And Haylee Bee you are an eleven, balance is in your fucking name. I just want my fucking twin. The whole of me is busy being feminine and mother and father and busy and caring and I'm surprisingly strong so much that it should never ever be a surprise. And my words are sharper now and still I use them so carefully because I love the potential of everyone. I know most don't know what I mean and I like it this way. I just want my parallel. And my heart is pulling for you to make way through all your shit to come meet me.
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