I embrace my vulnerability,
it’s so necessary for me.

I’ve a willingness to show myself,
so you can really see.

A person who is fearful,
one who carries shame.

Who understands her feelings,
like those connected to pain.

There’s more to me, there’s love and joy,
these I bring out too.

If you can see my vulnerability,
why not show yours too.


The Truth

There is something present inside me,

that cannot be falsified.

I do admit as my younger self ,

I pushed it right down inside.

What was inside kept hidden away,

I would never let come out.

Eventually giving  into it,

on realising what life was about.

I’m open now,

I can’t help myself, I wear my heart on my sleeve.

Those who know say I always was,

the toughness make-believe.

I can’t keep it in if I’m feeling it,

to do so would just be to deny.

Before I know it’s out of my mouth,

I sometimes ask myself why.

In writing I’m told I’m vulnerable,

in showing myself to you.

But what the point of writing,

if your saying what’s not true.

I talk of love, the purpose of life,

of what it means to me.

In my writing I show honesty,

it’s what I want you to see.