I didn't know that until now

Paint kisses poetry

Why is your poetry kissed with paint?

For a split second, I understand
I can hold the longing without apology.
The air tastes sharper,
like a code humming in the distance,
reminding me that I have new questions to ask.

I used to wait for permission,
but now I feel the quiet shift:
nothing is locked, nothing is lost,
and the ground beneath my feet is open for me to choose.

Yes, I was afraid. Yes, I was uncertain.
But in this instant, I see how everything can tilt,
how the truth can show up in the smallest gesture,
like a candle flickering in a corridor.

And suddenly I realize:
I didn’t know that until now.
But that’s why I’m here,
breathing in the promise of this next step,
trembling with excitement, watching the light unfold,
wondering if you’ll follow me into this.

I exhale once, let my lungs expand in that crisp clarity,
and you won’t believe what I find waiting:

“All this time, I was my own map.”