i was told that writers are all brave, and the ones
that aren't face their fear with an awe inspiring
courage that i don't have, so i guess
that means that i'm not a real writer because
i'm not brave, i don't have awe inspiring courage.
yet, i can make words bend around me in ways
that some people just can't and i can
weave a story using only a pen and paper, i use
my thoughts as a many colored thread and my pen
is the needle, the paper is my canvase.
i paint mind pictures and i like to think that sometimes
i make questions, that i
create a thought in someone's mind that grows
into something that they can't ignore, something that
becomes more than just a thought.
i make dreams come alive, i make the chaos
of the inside of my mind real and i
tell the truth as i see it, not as
people have told me to see it because i don't conform
to that kind of thinking.
i'm not brave, i don't have awe inspiring courage
and you tell me that means i'm not really a writer, but
i think that there might just be more to it than that
because i may be afraid, i may not be confident
but i can sit down and twist words around me like thread,
weaving them into poems and stories.