“I be reading your shit and crying,”

she said so honestly, I knew she wasn’t lying.

That’s one of the most humbling compliments a writer could get.

The hurt in her voice when she said that, I’ll never forget.

It was a reminder of why I share what I do.

Sometimes I forget people can relate to what I’m going through.

I’m glad that it resonated with her in ways I’ll never truly know,

when late at night and all alone are the only times her feelings will show.

I’m truly grateful for those that take the time to read,

dissecting my words and taking what they need.

Our stories and situations may not be the same,

but having you relate regardless is truly my aim.

So this goes out to the ones that cry when they read my shit,

I’ll take it as the highest form of a compliment that a certain post hit.