I wrote a short story for a creative writing class several years ago that I’d never really done anything with.
It was one of those things that means a lot to you as a writer, but doesn’t really have a place in the greater scheme of things.
I’ve thought about re-writing it several times in varying fashions, but each attempt seemed disingenuous.
Even if they were technically proficient, the drafts and revisions lacked the heart—the candor of the original.
Instead I decided to leave it as is.
Besides, sometimes it’s good to just get things out and let them go.

A Lesson from Elly is posted.

I haven’t written anything since I started school two years ago.
I’ve made time for other things, but not the most important.
It’s too easy to forget ourselves for meaningless obligations.
No matter for whom your heart may beat, within you is where it will always happen.
Don’t forget (to love) yourself.

“Will I Wonder?”

I once thought I was paper, wicked and sharp to those who’d grown complacent with my care.
So easily overlain with all the images others wanted to see.
Never content with me just being me.

When I was a lover I welcomed any opportunity for pain.
Eager to brave hardships that would validate my resolve.
Because even though I meant it, saying those three words was never enough.

Haven’t stopped humming though the words faded long ago.
For some reason errands I’ll never remember seemed more important at the time.
I’d sing forever if I wasn’t late for work.

There are names my heart still beats to, even though they’ll scarcely wriggle from my tongue.
This damn brain box just keeps beating away.
As I get older the world gets smaller, and I’m curious if it’s the same for you.

Some day all too soon the fantasies will stop for good.
I can’t help but wonder if then I’ll see the world for the first time, or will it have been the last?