Sometimes I wonder about the brave
gig. On most days, I think I might be a good friend of brave
and then I write
When I come to make words, then brave
quietly slips out the back door like an elusive snake slithering back to the bush.
And what is five minutes, 5 measly minutes of brave
So I came here to dash out my brave
words, only to falter on them
. I don't know if I'm living it all the right way, so I wonder of that too. A mom who has one of those
daughters, the kind that doesn't talk to you and I think, it's because I am not brave
But really, I'm just weary of conflict.
And my heart hurts
like a silent bleeding from it all.
So I think of brave
again and how it'd look.Brave
might go along as loving, again and again, despite the pain
.Shared at Lisa-Jo's "Five Minute Friday" on Brave.