Hold, Hold, Let Go

Holding a knife’s edge
it draws crimson droplets
that swiftly form a sea of red
It puddles beneath the hand
 
and still the grip tightens
Anger, Guilt, Passion, Hatred
Reasons to never let go
 
When memory fails
bitterness remains in its wake
 
The knife cuts only you though.
 
Or its dropped
and Relief is felt in a soft wave
 
washing over you
healing you from the reason
you couldn’t let go
 
The weight lifts and floats away
the chains unlocked
and you can soar higher now
as long as memory remains away
 
Pride and power come
from letting go
an invisible crown you wear
Succeeding, finally, at years’ long goal
But maybe memory still holds it.

Bow to No Man

My first priority

should be me.

But my shoulders carry

Lists done daily.

 

And it grows

Makes new lows.

But here I am

And I’ll be damned

If I fail.

I roar,

not wail.

 

Take care of him.

Cups filled to the brim.

Still, I push forward

For I’m no coward.

 

Fall now and then

But I get up again.

Check off my list

With clenched fist

And wear my smile.

 

I know it’s futile

To fight my role

For it’s in my soul.

And yet there’s apart

Of my beating heart

It says there’s more

Behind closed doors.

 

And now I say

I bow to no man.

That’s not my plan.

Argument, Writing, Revising

3, 062 words I have written today! Super happy about that, I must admit! However… I am only kinda following my writing schedule so far. There was a good chance it would have to adapt, and maybe that is all it is, but wrinkles were thrown into my plans despite my hopes.

To start with, last night I had an argument with my husband that left me emotionally drained. I hate feeling I have failed someone, one way or the other, and I am disappointing him AND myself. We both want kids, a better house, but it is tough to do when he is the only one bringing money in.

It was selfish of me to quit my job and start writing (which I was reminded is almost two years ago). It is a dream though, and sometimes… we answer them in less than opportune ways. That being said, we aren’t struggling financially, we’re doing fine (mostly), but we aren’t able to put money into this house to fix it up. That makes it difficult to move. It also makes it difficult to even plan on having a child. Both are goals for us and I feel like I’m not doing my part.

However this was the fire I needed under my ass. I have been avoiding working on my book, because I am afraid to fail. I am afraid it won’t go anywhere whether it is published traditional or I do it myself (tips on self publishing are welcome). I am afraid I made a super selfish decision that is hurting someone other than me for a dream that might never happen.

You can want a dream all you want, but it requires time and effort… along with some luck. I haven’t been putting in the time or effort, because pausing is easier than full steam ahead into failure.

But this argument is pushing me to get it done, because I need it to be done and out there just as much as my husband does. It may not bring in any money, but I put something I created out there and that matters, too. Right? I guess we’ll see.

Anyways, back to my writing schedule. I woke up at 4 am  which is step one. Buuuttttt…. it was to find my husband asleep in the office where I work. He has sleep apnea, doesn’t use his machine, so I felt bad waking him up. I fooled around for the next hour before he got up and I helped him get ready a lunch for work.

I didn’t feed the dogs like I should have until after, but I did eat, followed my morning routine, and played my apps on my cellphone (lame, I know). It was about 5:30am when husband left, but I didn’t feel I had time to exercise so I went right to writing and skipped the hour and a half I was supposed to read (whoops).

After that I ended up having lunch earlier than planned since my breakfast was small and I didn’t have a snack. I am at least in the section of the day where I am writing and blogging (from 10 am to noon as scheduled).

As much as I should read next, I probably won’t, because I am playing catch-up on my book which I had hoped to finish months ago. I don’t have a good excuse. I suck. I know, but I’m working on it now. That should count, right?

I initially had it written in that 1:50pm to 2:30pm would be relax with Andrew by watching an episode of something, but he has a doctor’s appointment. I’m hoping to get even more writing/editing/revising/etc done before then.

Hell, I’ll probably try to keep working while he watches whatever. That is how motivated I feel, but I know that spells burnout or an episode of hypo-mania. We’ll see how the evening plays out.

Tomorrow I am hoping to follow my writing schedule much more literally, but at least it looks like it could work for me… after some potential time management shifts.

Oh and here’s a quote to hopeful inspire, motivate, or move you to chase that dream of writing!

 

A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit. ~ Richard Bach

 

P.S. Seriously. I welcome any tips concerning getting published be it traditional or self. Links, input, advice. I live for it!

Again With The Lies

Sharp little nails I sleep on at night.
Each a regret, a nightmare, a lie.
 
Toss and turn on this prickly bed.
No comfort when doubt lives.
 
I push back, I fail,
Relapse into old patterns.
 
Rebellion has yet to set me free.
Caged by painful repetition.
 
Success is a bird that soars.
Failure the chain buried in the ground.
 
Darkness tugs on tired eyes.
“Maybe tomorrow.”
 
Again with the lies.

August 2017

It was a big day
But in a little way.
The end of my two weeks
Which was less than bleak.
I left that job
Feeling more than just a glob.
Unsure of what lay ahead
Yet I was not filled with dread.
Instead I felt hope anew
My footsteps led me far and true.
I stumbled upon my purpose,
And it was time to get down to business.
 
I had had a dream,
Filled with danger and fun.
I told my husband, my mother,
And they were quite stunned.
It spun into an idea
A book written by me,
In which a girl named Vivian
Fought hard just to be free.
 
I am still on that adventure,
Editting, revising Vivian’s tale.
It consumed me through and through,
And I refuse to fail.