This post lays between a poem and blog like two pages stuck together in your favorite book.
On the page where your favorite passage rests.
I took a break.
I lost my way in a hazy maze sometime in October- of some year.
I forgot what I enjoyed about writing.
I forgot how to write.
Maybe, I didn’t forget.
Maybe, I was ignoring the desire, the calling, the muse.
I just let myself fall off the wall refusing to let the kings-men help.
I moved around, numb, on my own endless hamster wheel, living a never-ending rut.
Then, suddenly, I find the desire and joy in writing.
I may not write all the time.
I may not be as consistent as I like but I am here, again.
I fall, over and over again and I like my wounds, I tend to them until they have healed.
I discover the urge that excited me was visiting Rip Van Winkle for a much needed slumber.
Maybe, I had nothing to write about and that’s ok.
Push button start, ignition, READY, SET, WRITE.
Copyright © Delia Marrero 2019 All rights reserved.