Golden Rules of Writing 

I have been focusing on the first three rules and letting the last couple slide…

Time to start a new novel. 

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Lack Of

Sometimes the truth is only revealed when you are not listening – words are spoken but often nothing is said.

The breathing, the stammer, the inability to look me in the eye.

Many things hurt but some deeper than others. People put value on certain things but ultimately all we seek is appreciation – no matter how small.

To find out value is nothing – appreciation more than fleeting.

The shock shatters but be weary of the pyschological decimation.

Self appreciation your only solace.

Summer Heat

In the heat of the summer solstice I am reminded of something –

You could even say it’s someone.

There is just something about the warm nights –

Young and old people don’t sleep early, they stay up late, allowing their imaginations to play with their fantasies.

I can visualize you. I can visualize the future.

In the middle of the night hunched over the table, a single bead of sweat will drop onto my journal.

The page wears it like a badge of courage.

It could be a tear to the untrained eye, they will be stuck wondering if it was for happiness or for pain.

It was neither,

It was both,

It was something I long for.

In Between

There is a battle within-

I like to believe that it is not just me but I cannot be certain –

I am trapped within the uncertainty of it all.

My imagination absorbs me whenever my focus falters.

To live in fantasy is dangerous –

To live in reality is deadly –

Where is my place?

Under Cover

I have been longing for the brilliance of the sun’s June rays.

They warm my skin which in turn warms my soul.

Optimism rises from the heat and mingles with the cold drink in my hand.

Memories dance across my mind – Images flash and laughter echoes.

The freedom of summer dwindles a bit each year with age in a literal sense

but

You can keep it alive within you.

Shady

In the seemingly cold air of the shade I can find warmth.
The sun may try to sneak in but it can be avoided.

There is comfort there- provided by the trunk, the branches and the leaves.

The hard ground is a companion.

I am able to prepare while lurking.

I am not waiting to launch an attack but rather waiting for myself.

Waiting to be ready to step into the sun for I know this time there will be no retreat.

If I leave again I can never go back into the shade.

Once in the sun all flaws will be revealed and I must no I have to accept them.

Never again shady.

Hope

Fleeting yet consistent-

enlightening yet bland.

Some mornings it greets me with the sun’s rays. Most nights it hugs me as I hunt for the stars among the clouds.

Occasionally, it hides, it runs, it completely escapes from sight.

If only I could control hope, or

Can I?