Category:

Worries that don’t ...

2/4/2020

HER FINGERTIPS HOVER
ever so delicately
just along the foggy pane of the bathroom glass.
Just behind.
Just behind.

She carves a line on the mirror
the condensed water dripping like dew
from the tip of her finger.
Tracing the reflection of the lines
curving out from her eyes.

Wondering which worries have caused them…

Worries that matter.
Worries that don’t .

I yearn to whisper to her,

Stop…

you’re missing it.

4 Comments

On Being a Writer

1/5/2020

0 Comments

When you are a writer, you are relentlessly drawn into a force beyond yourself.

You work towards a vision no one besides you can see.
You believe in yourself and a story that doesn’t fully exist yet.
You beat yourself into oblivion
to produce something
that you never really know will work out.

So you work.
And you work.
And you WORK.

Oftentimes, your work slips past unnoticed,
as life pulls everyone around you in a million different directions.

But all you can think is,
“Will they like it?"
"Will they live inside this wild world I’ve lived inside my entire life?"
"Will anyone even care?”

Do you know how you know you are truly a writer?
Like honestly,
a true and fiercely committed,
I’ll-do-this-till-I-die writer?

When you do it despite all that.

When two a.m. sprawls across your bedside clock and all you can do is lie awake,
eyes wide open,
writing the next sentence of your novel in your head.
You believe in it.
More than you’ve believed in anything your entire life.

Apparently that’s what they say faith is.
Faith despite evidence.
Faith despite all of life slapping you relentlessly in the face
with the cold hard fact
that you are one among millions.

But you do it anyway.

Because you are.
You are a writer.
You don’t stop.
Don’t stop.
Never stop.

Write on my beloved friends.
Write on.

My early morning workspace.

0 Comments

On Being Selfish

12/28/2019

1 Comment

I’m a big believer in the 5 a.m. club.

It's not a club really. Nothing that fancy. Just me, getting up at the crack of dawn, and sitting in my PJs to write. For a while it was to practice yoga. But generally speaking, it's a time in my day where I can do something for myself that feeds my soul.

I am often met with, “I can’t believe you get up that early when you don’t have to, you’re crazy.”

But I’m not really. I just woke up one day and said, “What in the hell am I doing with my life every day?!”

1 Comment

Something Sweeter

6/3/2018

0 Comments

I hesitate,
watching as you empty a packet of raw sugar
into your black coffee.
Our silence is broken
as your spoon slowly twirls against the glass.
The sugar disintegrates.
You briefly flash me a smile as you grab another packet.

You think I’m judging you.

But all I’m thinking about is asking you
this one question.

0 Comments

<<Previous

Worries that don’t ...

On Being a Writer

On Being Selfish

Something Sweeter

The Blog

Archives

Categories