I sit at the table

and feel the cookie in my hand

It is warm

sweet

soft

Like your voice

 

I still rememeber the day you told me to pick up a pen

but I didn't believe it when you said

I could write anything I wanted

To put my heart on a page

every word,

a beat,

as if this life could keep going

if I didn't run out of empty space to fill

 

You,

You made me see that there will always be empty space to fill

So I kept writing

and saw the pieces of my life that were worth writing down

Things I had never bothered to glance at twice

The crumbs of my existence

laid out before me

Telling this story I am finally proud of

Finally willing to show

Finally allowing others to read.

 

So I sit at the table

where I do all my writing now

A cookie in my hand

Waiting for the crumbs to guide me

Knowing you,

just you,

had always known they'd be there

had always encouraged me to find them

had started this trail in the first place

and I can never

thank you

enough.