Step up

I was running a high last night. Driving through the dark, cranking the music up, feeling as if dreams are so fragile I need to cradle them like an egg inside me. Some are just not ready to come out yet, some need to be tended before they are released. And what a giddy feeling secret dreams are to carry. Everything seemed to be in its place – the poems I need to create, the love I need to hold, the lights guiding planes to the runway that blinked blinked blinked above me as if┬ábeckoning. I felt then, I was driving to my future.

“It’s about as close to perfection as anything you’ve ever written.” And now I’ve reset the bar for myself. Now, I’ll ride the feeling for a day because small victories when writing are no small thing at all. And I’ll sit on my step for a while, play with the stones, look through the cracks, but eventually I’ll stand, stretch my legs and take another step up, eventually I’ll want to get better again.

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