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.
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