It lifted me up,
Made my heart swell
And breathed a smile on my face
To hear praise from a friend about my writing.
She talked about flow and
How she wants to read more
And just reconfirmed
The ideas gathering in a storm
Around my head.
Ever since Author of the Week,
High school English with Mr. Swett and
The search for a greater voice in college,
I’ve wanted to write.
To create words from my thoughts
That create thoughts in the reader,
The fuss over a word that doesn’t feel right
And the power that comes with a thesaurus,
That stereotype of a hunched over figure
With a typewriter and a side of whiskey
In a flurry of paper and flourish,
It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Due to over modesty or
Most likely a lack of drive,
I’ve never pushed but
I haven’t let go of the dream.
At times it’s felt like I have yet
The years have made a great cocoon
Of family and friends and place.
The time is coming though
And I’m subconsciously preparing.
A blog, an article, a query letter.
I’m writing and that’s quite simply it.
I want to write, I think about writing, and
Tonight I’m writing instead of watching a movie.
I wanted to do that, too,
But I’ll take the win for me this time
And apply myself harder every time.
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