First Draft

You’re waiting for inspiration to hit you like a lightening bolt, As you doodle smiley faces on the corner of your paper. You stare out the window Becoming mesmerized by the river of white and red lights from the interstate. You pace the perimeter of your room, As invisible Demons and Angels whisper clashing messages of Encouragement and failure. You close your eyes and say Omm to center your fractured self. Returning the pen and paper, You question how creative writing had once come so easily. Without a thought, You begin… And write and write and write, Until every last word is emptied from your soul. Your pen drops to the floor, You restrain your manic-inner critic’s compulsion To edit and edit and edit.. And flee into the autumn night, Half content and half tortured, You breathe crisp air and stare up at the star studded sky.