10-Line Tuesday

April 17, 2012

write yourself here

On a river in Georgia, paddling past question marks. On a park bench in Jersey, starting from empty.
The Starbucks in Chelsea amid a collision of coffee orders. The apartment where an uncle lived
when he was still alive, and how it still smells like yesterday. The first rock climb of the season.
The last pound of the diet. In the gridlock of indecision. In the freefall that previews every courage.
Write yourself here. Make a strike with your pen. Look the words dead in the eye.
See how the ink makes it suddenly real, how that slight indentation in the paper where the letters
have made their new home have given you one, too. Believe it. Where you have found yourself
is exactly where you need to be, and the line breaks and the smudges and double-spaces
and misspellings are right where you need to be, too. Stop telling yourself you made any mistakes.
You didn't. You didn't.