
I wrote this poem in 2006 about my tumultuous relationship with writing. I love to write and it’s saved me more times than I can count. However, I tend to beat myself up if I’m not writing enough.
Instead of tears from eyes that long to spill,
I will spill words onto these pages.
Words that make sense,
Words that don’t make sense,
Many are in fact nonsense
I will let my emotions, the wind
And my surroundings guide me until
I fill up these pages
Full of nonsense, prose,
Poetry, ideas, and everything I can think of
This will be a new phase
this new phase will be full
of promise and potential
And it will also be full
of what I hope is the inspiration
that leads me to share my relationship
to the world.
this will be my fourth baby
Another one I will nurse and raise until it is
As beautiful and complete as my
real life ones.
This is the promise I make to
my pathetic little beast.
Beautifully written…write whenever you feel like…without thinking whether you write enough or seldom…it’s only my suggestion ✨
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