Meant to be seen

I haven’t gone IN in a while. Maybe it’s because I’ve been pretty content and fear is keeping me from dragging my feet against the river bottom. I don’t want to deal with all the silt. I don’t want to muddy the water.
I told my mom that I got my tattoo, so I wouldn’t ever be able to give up. I’d look at it knowing what I had to do, what I needed to do, what I love to do and no amount of rejections, heart breaks, internal mountains would make me stop. I realize I don’t need something on my body to remind me about this, but sometimes my hand feels like my heart and I don’t want to hide anymore. True writing is in the work, always. But I’m proud of what I’m doing, what I’ve learned. Now when people ask, I’ll tell them. I’ll show them my gauntlet

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