In My Own Words

It started slow almost methodical,
The day – The week.

Then something happened
As the sun
Began to rise

The sky lit up
And then I began to write
For the first time.

I was Six
Or maybe Seven
Hard to remember.

It was just another day
Or was it.
To me it started and never ended
And my mind was racing
Overpowered by its own imagination
The Creativity, the inspiration.

Then almost like an old man
Brought to life
It kept going
They all kept singing, screaming
That is the voices in my head.

Kept telling me to write...more.

Hard to stop as the pen kept moving
Striving forward
To an end, no...just another
Beginning.

Now I can feel it,
See it, Taste it.
The ink I write with is my own blood,
My imagination is my blood,
It is my blood.

I continue like a child with no end
Always young and never old.
Striving, never falling...far
Because I write with myself on the page.

As you all should write
With yourself on the page
Don't lie to yourself
Or fake who you are
Cause your blood will never lie.