I'm trying to shake the dust off my creative wings. The last... I dunno, few months have been a struggle to assemble strings of prose that weren't just frustrated ventings, or poems that started off with a bright idea that I slowly colored darker with each successive line. I'm not sorry for that - I've learned the hard way that this kind of work is as self-illuminating as it comes - but I have been really wanting to get back to some of what got me really invested in poetry to begin with. Telling stories with subtle strokes of color, rather than not-so-subtle backhands of... well you probably get the point.

My last final was today, and the very minute I was out of the classroom, I could feel something trying to work it's way out of my mind and onto a page. It's a strange feeling, the only decent comparison I can draw is like when you're hungry, but nothing sounds particularly appetizing. You want to eat, but can't quite figure out what.

I needed to write SOMETHING, but the words just didn't seem to come together.

I spent hours scribbling garbage, but garbage more vivid than anything I'd written in a while. I just kept at it, and eventually, FINALLY, something stuck. Several hours later... this is the eventual result of that line. I can't say that this is THE thing my mind was hoping for, but these days a finished piece is an accomplishment in itself.

Aaaaanywho, thanks for reading. Comments/critique welcome as always. I feel good about this piece, which is rare. Usually when I like something I wrote, no one else tends to, sooo we'll see if I keep that streak alive. Maybe it's because the ones I hate, I generally spent more time slaving over, and they end up better for it. I'll admit, I often wish I spent more time revising, but it's a fragile balance between editing and getting gun-shy for me. I can always touch them up later.

Enough rambling! Til next time, which should hopefully be soon(ish) now that school's officially over for a while.