When I sit down with my heart full, with a pencil, or a pen, or a keyboard in front of me, sometimes I find that balanced place where words just flow out of my fingers.

It's a good feeling.

Taking a huge emotion from inside me and making it into something concrete.

It can be a celebration, or a dirge.

I remember that the first time I was in love, I wrote a poem.

It wasn't a particularly good poem, but it wasn't that bad, either.

And I looked at it, and I thought "Yes! This is something you can do"

So I started looking for the balanced place more often.

I'd go to the library at school and sit in the corell furthest from the door and write.

I screwed up papers and made my fingers sore from gripping my pen.

My hair got rumpled, and I always had ink on my fingers, and I got tired.

But it was worth it for the feeling I would get when I finally slipped into the page and found that place.

Soon, anywhere would do.

In my bed at 2am.

Down the back row of a math class.

Halfway home with a pencil and my chemistry prac book in my hands, walking and writing, and not being run over.

The balanced place became the best place to live in.

And then...

I don't know what happened, really.

I got a job.

I got married.

I got pregnant.

And I forgot all about that wonderful feeling of creating something from ... just words.

I'm so glad I seem to have found my way back again

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