My Writer friends basically get published on a daily basis. And not to sound smitten, but I do glow a unique golden shade basking in the light of their success.
Because one day I’ll say: “I was reading them far before famous…”
All of this said, I still haven’t found my ambition to submit work for publication. Not because I don’t care… I mean… I want to care…
I just don’t think it’s my bag blog family.
I admire Writers who compose something, recognize its brilliance, and get it published in their favorite zine.
But as far as I go? Well…
I had a very busy day today. I nearly cried a few times missing New York City but accepting what has to go down over the next few months. I came home to an empty house, played with the puppies for a bit, blasted this Tiesto track, pulled my hair that’s growing quite long these days, and wrote a poem.
I didn’t write a poem that a publisher will care about, or that I care about a publisher caring for… I wrote something honest that expresses me exactly right now.
Shout out to the 500ish of you who get it. Because to me, as a Writer, that’s actually what matters. Truly… I’m actually one of those…
memory. restyled remembrance.
i have a
in your world.
he is dangerous.
my mind. dressed to… in…
suits. costumes. strata.
an unseen spiral
my head. rejects
what i am telling
you. i found a way
survival is possible.
breath tastes sweet.
both of us
to an extramural
venue. place outside
of how attempts
tend to tell.
It’s been a minute since I said, “I LOVE YOU.” Not that you don’t know… but really… don’t think a day passes that I’m not loving you my cult of all things delicious. You’re not here because I’ve got a hip indy name for myself or because cool people get published on this site. You’re part of the love circle.
It keeps my heart beating. x o x