The Way I Write

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Do you feel me,
I'm hiding beside you today.
Behind you.
In your shadow.
I like it there,
it's so safe and lovely in the cool dark of you.
So can't I please stay here?
Not have to go out
find my own place in the world?
It's so safe hiding.
So safe imitating Hemingway, and Atwood.
So safe making my voice sound like hers.
Someday I'll leave this.
But today,
I don't want to.
I want to simply enjoy the security of the tried and true.
Or the tried and lied.
Because I want to create something new
But I'm too sure I can.
I can't be as great as I want to be.
And one day I'll look back on when I was young and say
Why didn't I push myself more
but today
I want to stay right here forever.
I can write how Longtin wants me to.
I can do that.
I can write the way readers want me to.
I can write how anyone wants me to, I can.
Finding myself is so hard today.
So hard I almost would rather trap myself forever in something not true?
Perhaps not,
but for now...
For now allow me the indulgance to mix and match my frightening own-ness
with something that struck a chord.
I don't copy words.
I won't steal other's words
But I will borrow their voice
or their style.
My own is still too small and weak.
Forgive me.
One day.
One day, a promise to both me and you.





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