Growing up on myth

The God said

To be a good writer

You have to save someone

Watch them sob

Spy on surfers with binoculars

Dive

Into claustrophobic tunnels

On archeological digs

Where phd’s

Can’t see

But

You

Can

Murderesses

Chase

You

With knives

High school

Haunts

Kindergarten taunts

Hearts swell

With

Injuries

So deep

They never heal

Scar tissue

Makes

You

Brittle

Willingness

Makes

You

Giggle

Plant

Hope

Yearn

Starve

Wait

Swear

And

Die.

So write away

Your song

Isn’t mine

But I’m willing

To

Hear

Your

Story

Then again, maybe I’m not!

It’s writing

Said the alien

Not

A shoe

Just

Do

It.