a wrestle with words

and the resolve to create anyway

I lie awake and think about words. 
They call to me.
They haunt me and taunt me. 
The begging 
to get out of my head 
and onto the page.

Sometimes I greedily shove them away,
hoping for a better word 
or more polished flow 
to find me later.
Other times I let the words
zip and zag and float away. 
Never to be seen again.

I think about the time it takes 
to sit down and write. 
The distractions and hiccups 
that happen 
before I even make it to the chair.
The years where college
and never-ending work 
kept me from writing 
a word for myself.

Now, it's the fatigue
and the semi self-imposed 
weight of the world
I bear on my laden shoulders.
And the patience I need to 
tenderly arrange words 
into something sensible. 

I think about my fear of words. 
Always unsure of what will 
surface to the page from 
the depths of my mind, 
the hidden pockets of frustration, 
or the teeming underbelly of anger
dusty from years of supression.

Will I be ready to face the words,
or will I quietly tuck them back 
in the junk drawer of my mind?
What weight will they hold
or unburden me of?

Yet, I return again and again
for those  f r e e i n g , falling, 
and failing moments I find
in the wrestling of words. 

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Create Anyway".