Writing

Emma and Loki

And I am feeling lost. Staring at my computer. The words have left, taken their ball and gone home. And here I sit and stare. This is nothing new. All writers know this. And I feel the push, the drive to create something brilliant and insecurity that simmers under the surface saying, “it will be crap.” And so I sit and stare. Lost in my circle. Create. I can’t. I have to. It’ll suck. Time slowly ticking. And I sit and stare. All the characters that I danced with yesterday, even during breakfast, have moved on with their day, gone to their jobs, met their lovers at seedy hotels, boarded airplanes for paradise. And I sit and stare. Tick tock goes the clock. Eyes fade and the screen is a blur of white like staring into the sun. Trying to fight time, like a boxer trying to get the last punch in before the bell. Trying to find inspiration, like an artist sees the world. I look over my outlines. Over my ideas. My list of projects. And nothing comes. Time has stopped like watching the clock on the last of day of school before summer vacation. Eternity has set in. My mind wanders like a leaf in the wind. My creative gone and forgotten like a prisoner on death row.  So, I sit and stare. Force myself to wait. To be patient. Like a child waiting for mailman. Like a dog waiting for dinner. Like people waiting for the bus. I know it will come. I just have to wait. Patiently.

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Little lost goth girl

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Little lost goth girl

Drowning in her hair

Swallowed by the black

Held by the harsh guitar sounds and banging drums

Seen in her drawings

Come to me, inspire me, allow me to see, to be and recreate

Been in a fog

I have wanted to write

Longed to write

So many ideas flowing

and then, I sit down and nothing

feverishly I reach for my notes

and nothing

go to the writing books

nothing

inspiration lost

gone

and fog sets in

I sit and wait

sit and try

and the words feel forced

feel contrived and inauthentic

My head swimming in a fog

No end in sight

I set deadlines

They go unmet

I know what I want to write about

And yet I cannot seem to find….

I am blind

I am lost

I am tired

And I long to create

To write

My characters cry to me

Visit my dreams

Talk to me

And yet when I sit to write

They are lost in the fog

So I set intentions

And they go unanswered

I have given up trying to force the words

The fog will lift

And when it does

I will be waiting

Sitting at my computer

And the words

The people

The places

Will find me

And I will write my story

It’s in there

It is the seed

Waiting to grow

Waiting for the spring

Waiting for the sun

So I wait

Any day now the fog will lift

I can see the sun peeking through

Ode to a friend

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I have this friend, she was like my sister

From lifetimes ago

Our relationship dwindled

Miles and people separated us

And still to this day

I love her

I miss her

Sick and twisted

Right or wrong

We were in it together

Until I realized that I could no longer feed my sickness

Feed her sickness

Our sicknesses fed off of each other

Poisoning us and everything around us

And despite everything

The hurt feelings

The broken hearts

The pain

I still love her

I still miss her

Because she stepped into my darkness

And I her’s

And we still loved each other

Now forced conversation

Walls built high

A longing to go there

Be there

And a knowing of the disaster it brings

And in my heart

I long to see her happy

To see her at peace

I have found my peace

and

I have found my happiness without her

Something I never imagined

Hopefully someday

She can join me

Beat her demons

Step into the light

And when I see her

And briefly talk with her

A piece of me

Longs

Wishes

To step back into the darkness

To be swept away by the crazy

To be in that place again

And so I extend my hand

Invite her in

Not knowing will I stay sane or go crazy again

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They are alive

“I am telling you, you have to believe me.  Listen to me!  They are alive.  They are waiting.  Please!”

No one ever listened to her.  Noticed her.  Cared for her.

On this night.  This dark and dreary, rain soaked night.  Water puddling around her ankles, she pleaded with the rush of people running here and there.  She tugged on their coats, grabbed at their ankles.  They didn’t notice.  They rushed with their umbrellas, their papers, their heads covered.  They rushed, pushing and hurrying.  The only thing on their minds was getting out of the rain.

She knew the rain was just the beginning.  But as usual no one saw her.  No one cared.  They just rushed by.  Lost and oblivious.

Shadows

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They play with me

toy with me

I think I might be loosing it

creeping in

invading my space

my mind

moving

changing

hiding

what lurks in the shadows?

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What is out to get it me?

Steal my thoughts

My soul

Watching and waiting

no escape

shadows stalking sanity

slipping

sleep call

shadows eating

Piece by piece I fade into darkness

Full moon swing

Off the ledge

cemetery play

Sitting at work

lost inspiration

thinking of everything else

things I want to be doing

things I could be doing

my to do list

of things not related to work

My soul aches

for untapped

unseen

unrealized dreams

I realize that what I must release

discard

let go of

is the idea of stability

playing it safe

I step into trust

into the cradle of the universe

it’s time to fly

to soar

to fulfill my soul’s purpose

Here’s to stepping off the ledge

Grand canon

I am Lost

The Wall

I’m feeling ill
Or lost
Maybe both
Thought I figured it out
Mapped and planned
I fell
Tripped
And didn’t get back up
I watched
The world pass by
Sitting on the cold cement
They passed by
Dreams
Ambitions
Held down by fear
And doubt
Feet soaking in
Puddles
I fell and decided to slip
Away
Allowed myself to be distracted
To accept
Silenced
I fell