I sometimes forget the ways of expressing myself. I sometimes find myself wishing I could move like a ballerina or fly through the air like a bboy.
Dancing is a way of using your limbs to say words that can’t come from your mouth. I get frustrated that I can’t move to the music but then suddenly realise that music is supposed to move me and that I don’t have to be a good dancer to show people how I feel.
I have my own unique way by using letters and syllables that dance to the music from beneath my pen. I make the verbs and nouns come to life taking a stand in what I feel.
I express myself with words but not words by mouth; words by heart in which dance has made me realise that I don’t need real music to make people dance to my song.
My song is waiting for me in the ink of a pen anticipating the touch of my fingers to wrap around him and waltz across the blank page of hope.
Dance inspires me even though I have two left feet I do admire the art in motion the art that inspires me to express the art in my soul.
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