The Architect, the Blacksmith, the Carpenter, & the Surgeon.

I write about the darkness sometimes. I am not a dark person; I am more an entanglement of shadowy tendrils and sun rays.

No, I think I write darkness because I'm trying to purge it from inside of me, one word at a time.

Because for a while, it felt like the only things I had were my pen and my words, my tools to keep me company in the dark and by the fire.

They helped me become what I needed to break free and be forever changed.

***

I became the architect, designing bridges out of sentences to span chasms and take me over the treacherous waters.

I became the blacksmith, creating keys to help me escape a prison of their and my own making.

I became the carpenter, building stanza into staircases, taking me out of a deep hole until I could reach solid ground.

I became the surgeon, stitching and stapling with stories to fix my swiss-cheese heart.

***

So, now I am here, one foot in the dark, one in the light, squinting at the sunlight at the end of the tunnel.

I can feel some hesitation, slightly nervous about allowing this new version of myself to be set loose on the world.

But she is eager, hungry for adventure and laughter; she is not to be held back anymore,

along with the architect, the blacksmith, the carpenter, and the surgeon who helped her along the way.