Words not directed at me and not meant to be harsh.

This might go without saying for most. But all words are superflous eventually. 

I write a way that is mine, it’s unlike yours, which I’ve envied and respected for a long time. There is no expectation of my writing but it’s felt always that it’s needed to be nursed to a health it never had.

It’s realizing itself now and this should be no revelation, it should seem the normal route.

But it is not what I thought it was, it’s purpose. It’s creation or power. It’s a form unexpected.