In Between Pride and Reality

There’s this feeling.

You get it after an intense session of writing.

Kind of numb, kind of proud.

Kind of lost, kind of found. 

It’s an in-between land. 

I’m here, but I’m somewhere far away.

I want to share it with everyone,

because wow look at this thing i made.

It lasts for a few hours.

I’m exhausted but wide awake.

I’m looking for something, someone,

a single person to say

“Look what you made.”

Kind of overjoyed, kind of sad.

Kind of happy, kind of mad. 

It’s the aisle of the lost.

We writers, we find ourselves here,

because the thing inside of us,

this voice that tells us to create,

has been expended for the moment.

And for the moment,

we are glass.

So easily shattered,

but in the light we bend

without breaking.

There’s this feeling.

Writing can be infuriating.

But when you finish a piece,

put it out there for all to see,

there’s this feeling.

We’re standing on the highest point,

on the loneliest island,

in the darkest sea,

and all around us,

our words are floating effortlessly.

There’s this moment.

Kind of tragic, kind of beautiful.

Kind of silent, kind of musical.

There’s this feeling.

You get it after creating something.

It doesn’t last long,

but while it does,

well,

it’s a lot like flying.