My hope is that you feel safe with me. That you feel free to be all those strange, quirky versions of yourself you've kept hidden and buried down deep. I know how hard it is for some of us simply to exist softly. To be gentle in a world that's been everything but towards us. My hope is that you know it's okay to be disheveled and confused. It's okay to be afraid. It's okay if the only pieces you bring me are the ones you're not sure what to do with. My hope is that maybe together we can reassemble one another better. Don't posture. Please, don't come to me artificially. I know how it feels to fall short of expectations you never even set for yourself. My spirit learned to address itself in the dark and redress itself to suit their liking, to fit their needs. I prefer us both naked and exposed. My hope is that when you see me, you feel at home. Check your pretensions at the door. Bring your wild imperfections. Because here, everyone "out of place" no longer is.
Written by J. Raymond
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