Poetry

Starting Over

For days, I sat down wanting to write
For days, I made excuses as to why I wasn’t
For days, I put my life on hold over petty reasons
But I guess it’s time
Time to write on whatever surface I get
I know it sounds desperate,
But I promise it’s not
It’s like that bell to change lessons
Or that alarm in the morning

I’ve waited too long
Too long for that semi – open door to open fully
For that one human to decide it’s time
For whatever I’m holding onto
to get better,
But is it really?

So I’ll write
Write even on the sky itself.
Because no one is giving me a book,
I’ll stitch a few pages together.
Because that door won’t open fully,
I’ll walk into the open one.

It’s time
Time to tell that story
Time for that smile to appear on the face
It’s time to stop waiting.

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