I’m finding no words at the moment,
No sentences, no paragraphs, no pages,
So I’m writing these words instead
In the hope they will lead me
To what I really want to say
When the words that I write
Are what I look like when
I’m turned inside-out.
Until then, my skin is waging war
To stay on the outside,
To see the death of words,
And this pen is wrestling
With scared and stubborn folds,
To strip them away,
So I can breathe,
So I can move,
So I can live,
* * *
This is what comes out when words won’t come but you want to write. Anyone relate to that frustrating feeling?
As a writer, I have been challenged again to write every day. To practice. To find my voice. But, most of all, because a writer writes.
Even if what I write each day isn’t great, every word I write helps shape every future word I write. So nothing is wasted.
Every word I struggle to get out when I don’t feel like writing, when I don’t feel inspired, when it’s painful to write, they matter. They make it easier to write when I have to write, when I have a deadline, when I have something I want to say.
And sometimes something good comes out in that disciplined struggle. Like a poem, or an insight, or a sentence of gold.
So write. Every day. If you call yourself a writer. If you want to be a writer. If you are a writer.
It’s worth it.