let the seed see

i can't write in another journal. can't fill  the pages of another. years passing pages filling with my hearth spilling. sometimes i go without writing for a long time to not accumulate. i don't want to fill another book i want to create, oh yes i do. oh what to make of these sprawls accrued? thoughts, musings? ponderings... i am always wondering, i don't want to. as i write i feel relief. i feel grief spilling no longer needed to be carried. yet the words sit here staring back at me, the letters. as i thank them for fitting together in a way that somehow can describe things unobserved, i feel tension. an inability to find the right ones for you to see me. after all isn't that where the need to write comes from? to connect? like a puzzle with missing pieces will i ever feel whole. i quit writing because i feel like i have something to prove. yet i realized that i am so desperate to know if you feel me. if few feel me. i don't want only the words to stare back at me... ideas, reflections, and views. can i possibly feel emptiness? knowing times been fully potent. i want engagement, baring my soul to be witnessed. i can't write but...i let the seed of creation see the light!