Approval

when she started out,
she’d written for no one;
it was pure reflection,
raw, unfiltered parts of her soul,
once-hidden bits of herself,
toilsome connections and modes of understanding,
the stuff everyday life was after but hadn’t dared to admit,
and it became an outpouring,
unable to be dammed

public approval meant absolutely nothing,
until she experienced it –
now, the thought of losing her audience shamed her

what began as an irrepressible outpouring had become defining,
a definition that vanished the moment she accredited it

-image via Pexels

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