I pull you out of me to release what was suffocating me

I pull you out of me to release what was suffocating me.
To create is to be compelled to unearth the scraps of the soul, the blood from veins, it’s the cracks of bones.
It’s to reveal, to be seen, to be understood, and misunderstood.
Purpose and not.
It doesn’t matter and it does, it lives and it dies, it is real and an illusion.
A walking contradiction, it’s the imposter, and slayer for truth.
It is all and nothing.
Search under the dirty nail beds and you’ll uncover earth from the blackholes she’s crawled and endured.

stephynow