spill

i feel like i am reaching in to the drain. first plunging my hand into the opaque water. then grabbing at mass of hair (etc.) to just get the words out.

i have moments, just before sleeping, when wisps of poetry appear, like the first strands of cotton candy. but i fall asleep before i can get a pen and collect.

lately it's been apathy. it's been thinking "but who cares?" and "who will read and know?" and tonight i stepped back and brushed those questions aside.

or started sweeping.

as crude and crass and asinine as it sounds, it was 19-year-old Taylor Swift's words from her interview tonight with Katie Couric plucked a chord with me: "i think I fell in love with words first..."

i've always loved words. rested on a phrase, savored a poem.

and time goes on.

and i need to stop looking for timeless and, instead, look for ephemeral, find words that dissolve, holding just a moment, enough to mirror life.

and so i resolve, once again, to keep writing.